


Be Free or Die Trying

by Metalbendrs



Series: FairyTales of Ladybug and Chat Noir [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrienette/Adrinette, Angst, Chloe and Sabrina are sisters, F/M, Fluff, Madame Bourgeois is a terrible mother, Marichat, Mayor Bourgeois is a lady, almost Cinderella AU, they take in Marinette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-05-13 11:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 32,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5705677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metalbendrs/pseuds/Metalbendrs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Marinette loses her family in a fire, she is adopted by a wealthy aristocratical woman and her two daughters.<br/>She now spends her days cleaning and dreaming about the life she will live when she is finally free, but she never imagined freedom as a leather clad boy with green eyes and sweet words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this on my phone, and finished it at 4am.  
> This is my first time writing for ML, and it's not beta'd so just pretend it is.  
> (Also excuse the fact that this first chapter has no italics/Bolded text, and it's formatted super bad. If you can brave through it, the next chapters are better.)

  
Even though she would never admit it, Marinette could remember **every** detail of the night she met Chat Noir.

-

Marinette was barely 8 years old when her parents, Tom and Sabine, were tragically killed in a fire at their small home bakery. Marinette had escaped with nothing but the clothes on her back and a small stuffed toy lovingly named Tikki her mother had sewn for her first birthday.  
Now it was days before her eighteenth birthday and she lived a servants existence in the attic of her foster family's home.

When she was young, she was grateful for the roof over her head and food on her table (or more often than not; the food scraps at her feet). But as she grew older, she wished for resentment against the cruel woman who took her in and locked her away from the world, and the two sisters, and they insisted she call them that, who would mock her relentlessly. But for Marinette, the resentment never grew past a prick in her throat.  
You see, kindness was embedded in her blood and formed the only identity of herself Marinette had known. Her mother insisted that she stay kind to all people she met, no matter how nasty or cruel. "Where there is kindness, there is magic" Sabine had cooed, lithe fingers braiding a young Marinette's hair.  
Her mother, who always smelled of bread and spices, was the kindest woman you would live to meet. A woman with soft eyes and an open heart, who took bread out to the beggars on the street each morning, and soup each night.  
Marinette remembered the smooth tone of her voice as they walked along the cool streets one summers morning. "Why must I always be kind?" Marinette had asked, lifting her skirt to step over a young boy's feet. Sabine had placed a warm hand on her shoulder, stopping her and placing a loaf of fresh, warm bread in her hands, cocking her head towards the boy, before stepping back to allow Marinette to place the loaf in his lap. "It is easy to hate, to be unkind to another person." Sabine smiled, pushing the boys blonde hair away from his eyes as she dropped to her knees. "But it is easier to love, much easier to be kind." The boy lifted his eyes as Sabine stroked his hair, smiling as he lifted the loaf to his mouth with shaky hands, not before offering a crooked smile, green eyes sparkling as he ate. She stood once again and took Marinette's hand, placing her other thumb against the young girls cheek, offering a soft swipe. "In this life, kind people do not always face the easiest path, but kindness is good, and good always triumphs evil." Sabine stepped away, continuing her daily dance down the dirty streets of Paris. Marinette could feel the warm air that blew on her face that morning, even now, when that day was nothing but a distant memory.

But it does not do one good to dwell on the past, Madame Bourgeois would mutter, putting her back to work with a new chore, despite Marinette's aching feet and heart. Chloe and Sabrina would laugh, comparing her to a young Cosette from Les Miserables (Marinette's favourite and only book of which they tore apart and tossed into the fire no less than a month ago) as they believed that they were prettier and that Marinette's head was always in the clouds. But Marinette was sweet and remained kind and could do nothing more than turn her cheek, which only infuriated her sisters more and the taunting would continue throughout the day, becoming more relentless as Chloe became more aggressive. Eventually they would tire themselves out, and Marinette would be left alone to do as she pleased before once again being locked in the dusty attic.  
At the request of Madame Bourgeois, Marinette was not to leave the house, and she hadn't once since the day she arrived, with the exception of her birthdays, were she was allowed to walk into town and buy a single sweet to enjoy. On those days, she was free to dream to her hearts content, to offer a smile and a "Good Morning!" To all those she passed. These were the days Marinette most enjoyed, the days where she was free and alive. Marinette would dream of her birthdays, the smell of grass, a blue sky, a soft meadow where she would lay and just feel the sun, soak it deep into her bones, just enough to last a year.  
As this year was a special occasion, she hoped Madame Bourgeois would allow her to stay out a while longer, dreamt of the endless possibilities those few more hours of freedom would bring. She could visit a tavern and have a meal instead of a single sweet. She could browse a boutique and feel the soft silk between her fingers. She could stumble across a handsome and fair prince who would fall in love with her and sweep her off her feet, taking away from her awful family and riding into the sunset. A lonely girl could only dream.  
But Marinette knew in her heart that Madame Bourgeois would never agree to such an idea, so she never asked, keeping the idea locked safely in her mind for further daydreaming.  
Instead she had begun collecting coins from beneath the furniture, from tabletops and nooks and crannies. The cook had given her as many as he could find beneath the stove, and the maids as many as they could sneak from her sisters vanities. And although Marintte felt wrong about stealing, the servants insisted that she accept them as gifts for her kindness to them through the years. Marinette had planned to sneak out much earlier in the morning, before the very crack of dawn, and spend those early morning hours doing what she pleases. She thought to buy herself a loaf of bread and lay in her favourite meadow and enjoy the whole thing by herself! Then she could spend the day wandering freely until an hour before supper when she had to return. Although she may suffer the consequences of leaving unannounced, surely they'd be less harsh then those she would face if she were to miss curfew.

Now she sat enveloped by the fullness of her ratty working skirt, and weaved the small blunt needle through the fabric. She let out a small yelp when she pricked her finger, quickly popping the digit into her mouth to avoid another mess to clean. She had almost finished sewing together a purse that she could use to hold her coins and hide under her skirt so it would not be found by Madame Bourgeois or the curious hands of her nosy sisters. She chuckled to herself, humming a tune as she pushed the needle back through the other side of the fabric (of which she cut from her own skirt). She had begun to reach for a new length of thread when her sisters burst into the attic, sending Marinette into a frenzied panic as she frantically hid her creation.  
"Marinette. Mother has some exciting news! Come down quick!" Chloe yelled from the doorway. Marinette nodded and rose to her knees, dusting her skirt and tucking the purse and sewing materials back under the floorboard she had popped up. Chloe huffed as Marinette scrambled to gather herself, before slamming the door impatiently and screeching from the stairwell for her to hurry up. So Marinette did what she did best (what she was told) and followed Chloe and Sabrina's path down the steps, through the halls and into the dining room to find the two girls standing expectantly in front of their mother, who looked every part the evil witch from Chloe and Sabrina's fairytale books.  
"Marinette, so kind of you to finally join us." Madame Bourgeois had sneered, causing Chloe to burst into a fit of giggle which Marinette dutifully ignored. She offered a polite curtesy as an apology and fell into line next to the two girls. Madame Bourgeois looked down at them with icy blue eyes before her red lips parted into a toothy grin. "My daughters, my beautiful, lovely daughters." Marinette couldn't help but bite her lip to suppress a smile, because even though she was unkind, at least Madame, deep down, did love her like she loved her own daughters. Marinette's heart swelled with pride as she looked up through her lashes at the woman. "-And Marinette of course, sweet, simple, homely Marinette." If there was a way to describe how quickly Marinette's heart crumbled, she was yet to discover it, so she simply blinked away the prickle of hot tears and nodded her head curtly. Madame Bourgeois continued swiftly, stepping back towards the elegant dining table to retrieve her tea cup. She took a soft sip from the beautifully detailed China before turning back to the three girls, cup steady as her smile returned. "We have been invited to the Prince's birthday ball, where his father will select a suitable candidate for marriage. Both of you-" Madame placed a hand lovingly over her heart. "Are eligible candidates, and one of you will soon become a Princess." Madame Bourgeois spread her arms in a dramatic motion.  
Marinette was unsure of how long they stood in stunned silence before Chloe positively erupted into tears, as she would finally become the princess she was destined to be. Marinette stood to the side and watched the girls as they began to plan their strategy to catch the Prince's eye, and was almost hyper aware of three things. One, the ball most definitely fell on her birthday. Two, she was obviously not invited, nor was she eligible for marriage. And three, the hot tears that had prickled before were now streaming down her face. She lifted a hand, wiping the tears away with the pad of her thumb before straightening her back. Madame Bourgeois turned and handed her a long roll of parchment, on which included every chore she had to complete on the day of the ball. She quietly excused herself, and headed back to her room, only when she had reached the small dirty mattress she called a bed did she allow the tears to fall, allow her to curl in upon herself and cry.

A year of waiting, of dreaming suddenly snatched from her hands in seconds, and Marinette could still not muster up the ability to hate her new family. She didn't feel kind, she felt stupid. She was a stupid, foolish girl who should have never taken her mothers stupid, foolish advice. And as quick as those thoughts arose, they were dashed with sharp pangs of guilt. 'You are just upset Marinette, disappointed about all that is happened. Don't taint the memories of your mother with such unkind thoughts.' A soft voice spoke from the back of her mind. She liked to imagine that the small voice of reason in her head was not in fact her subconscious, but actually that of Tikki, her only toy, only friend and only tether to her old life, who had somehow magically come to life inside her mind.  
Marinette stood from her bed and looked out her window, she didn't know how long she had been crying, but now it had become dark, and she could imagine close to midnight, and when the guilt in her stomach had receded, it was replaced by adrenalin and she knew that she would not be able to sleep.  
Instead she set to work finishing her coin purse in record speed and quickly and soundlessly filling it. At the very least, she could begin saving for next year, and have an extravagant day all her own. But the thought of that didn't satisfy Marinette and she craved more. She craved adventure and excitement and more.  
She craved freedom.

Twelve minutes before the clock struck midnight, Marinette crept from her room after pricking the lock with her sewing needle and a whole lot of hope. She tiptoed to the front door, and slowly placed her hand on the cool metal handle before giving a sturdy tug and- nothing. The doors were locked and she had no idea how to pick them. She slapped a hand to her forehead before looking around the large home, eyes flickering over all exits, doors, windows, and chimneys. She had just hatched a plan to escape by crawling under the house from the hatch beneath the stairwell when Madame Bourgeois turned the corner. Marinette froze, her heart pounded in her chest as she leapt into the shadows of the next room and hurriedly climbing back up the stairs to the attic. Once there, she locked he door behind her and prayed silently before she slowly cranked open the rusty window frame and evaluated her options, she saw no other choice but to jump, and to aim for the soft bushes below and hope she landed safely. 'Be free or die trying has always been your mentality, I suppose.' Tikki giggled, and Marinette laughed softly too. She then drew in a deep breath, swinging her legs over the windowsill on into the cool night air, and on the count of three, she pushed herself out from the ledge and prepared for impact.  
But impact never came and now Marinette could feel the warmth of someone's strong arms wrapped tightly around her shoulders and knees. She opened her scrunched eyes to meet a evenly wide pair of catlike emerald green ones, and they were painted with concern. Once her heart rate and breathing returned to normal, despite the fact he was still holding her and still looking deep into her eyes, she drew a breath and whispered her thanks, throwing her arms around his neck and enveloping him in a hug, during which he stiffened slightly. When she drew away, he relaxed and smiled crookedly.

"Well it's not every day **_mew_** get to save the most beautiful girl in the land from falling to her death."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette takes a walk on the wild side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to edit the way I wrote this so it would be easier to read.  
> Also I'm sorry in advance.

"Well it's not every day **_mew_** get to save the most beautiful girl in the land from falling to her death."

* * *

 

Marinette didn't fight the deep blush that crept to her cheeks, instead she prayed that he couldn't see it through the veil of the night, and kept her eyes panted firmly on the grass below.

Slowly he lowered her feet to the ground, keeping an arm wrapped snugly around her shoulders for support, (which she didn't exactly care to complain about, she quite liked the feel of his muscles moving beneath the tight leather) and Marinette refused to deny herself the pleasure of leaning into his hold with a small smile.  
When he finally opened his mouth to speak again Marinette hurriedly realised where they were and clambered out of his grasp and up his tall frame in an awkward motion to clamp her hand over his mouth and quiet him.

It was in that moment, when he widened his eyes in surprise and raised his eyebrows in questioning, did she even realise that he was wearing a mask. She stepped away from him, brushing her skirt off and allowing herself a moment to take the sight of him in.

He was tall, at least a head more so than her, and she thought for a moment about stepping closer to evaluate, but decided against the notion as it was silly. He wasn't exactly skinny, but instead was lean and Marinette could see ( _And had felt_ ) the hard planes of muscles moving beneath his suit. His eyes were every part as catlike as she had first thought them to be, a bright emerald green that almost sparkled beneath the moon, only covered slightly by the golden hair that fell into perfect disorder as though it had been tamed with product. It wasn't until he began to clear his throat (' _and oh his shirt was unzipped, I wonder what his chest looks like'_ ) did Marinette notice she had been staring. She snapped back into reality, quickly shook her head and stepped away from him, the blush that had never quite disappeared was back in full swing and she averted her gaze until the blood drained from her cheeks.

When a moment had passed, Marinette looked from him to the tall walls of the Bourgeois home before placing a finger over her lips and leaning in close to him once more.  
"There was a reason I came from the window, and not the front door." She muttered into his ear, and realisation dawned on his face, and Marinette couldn't help but notice that it was a good look on him, and he whispered back to her, his hot breath on her throat sending shivers down her spine and into the tips of her fingers.  
"Was My Lady trying to _escape_?"

Marinette could have never, **ever** , envisioned her night going like this, arms wrapped around a mysterious boy as they leapt through the forest and onto the rooftops of Parisian homes.

The silence was comfortable, yet deafening as Marinette stared at her surroundings as they flew past her. They were already in town, and he had no intention of slowing down. She wondered if he was kidnapping her, taking her into a cave in the mountains to have his way with her and make her his strange cat-bride. ( _She also wondered if she would mind, and came to the conclusion that she would not._ )

She hadn't been further than the town limits in many years, so for Marinette the approaching city had changed drastically since she was a young girl. She could see the twinkling lights of the said city ahead of her, and thought that every window must have lit a candle _just for her_.

She was amazed to see people wandering the streets freely, laughing and smiling, eating and sharing in each other's company despite the late hours, street performers sung, danced and played beautiful music she had never heard, and when the boy slowed to a stop on a rooftop, she hardly noticed, as she was lost in the beauty of the city below her. The boy helped her to her feet, but she didn't even acknowledge him as sunk to her knees and just _watched_.

To her left man softly strummed a guitar and sung an old tune she could barely remember hearing her Father hum as she puttered around the bakery. To her right a street magician shocked a young woman by doing something Marinette struggled to see, and as she leaned closer to the edge of the rooftop she could feel a sturdy hand tugging her back and although she inched away, her eyes remained fixed on the sights of the city.

He couldn't help but stare at her, this girl he barely knew, who had jumped out of a window without abandon, but was frozen in awe of the city as though she had never seen its charm before. ( _And the thought never occurred to him until later that night, that **maybe she hadn't.**_ )

"Thank you" Marinette whispered, and had he not been looking at her, he may have dismissed it as the wind playing a trick on him. But sure enough, her lips had parted and she had thanked him once again.

Marinette turned to face him, tearing her eyes away from the sights to face a new sight, and _sacré Dieu_ was he a sight to behold. In the soft warm glow of the city he looked radiant, as though his golden hair was alive and his eyes appeared to actually glow themselves. She thought, if only for a moment, if this was how she looked to him, but shook the thoughts out of her head because she was a commoner, and he could be a Prince for all she knew.

"What's your name? I want to know the name of the person who saved my life, so I can properly thank them." She turned to face him fully now, lowering herself to sit back on her knees, looking up at him through her lashes, and _sacré Dieu_ , how much he wanted to kiss her when she looked at him like that. "My name is Chat Noir, and there's no need to thank me Princess, your _prrrrr-esence_ is thanks enough." He dropped to a crouch in front of her, and much to his relief, her pupils were as blown and her eyelids as heavy as his own. " _But if you'd really like to repay me, your Knight in shining armour would not be opposed to a kiss from his lady_."

Marinette had never taken many risks in her life, nor had she ever broken any rules, but tonight everything was changing and his voice seemed to coax her up from her knees and, _oh_ , this was all a dream that she **never** wanted to wake up from.

She could have sworn her skin was on fire when he touched her cheek, and when she snaked her arms around his neck, and when she placed her soft lips to his, and then when he gasped into the kiss as though he was not expecting her to actually go through with it, she had never felt more _alive_.

* * *

 

"Can I make a confession?" Chat had asked quietly, and Marinette had hummed a response into his shoulder, where her head rested as they looked out upon the city.  
"I believe we have met before, long ago." Chat mused, more to himself than to her.

Marinette laughed softly and turned to face him. "Im sorry Chat, but that could not have possibly been me." And even though the reasoning behind her words was sad, she couldn't bring herself to feel sad, not in this wonderful moment. Chat laughed too, though he wasn't sure why, maybe it was because her laugh was so beautiful and infectious, but more likely it was just because it filled him with joy just to see her smile. "Of course! You would've remembered a face this _purrrrrrrfect_." He cooed, leaning his head to nuzzle closer to her and keep her warm against the chill of the night.

She lifted a hand and ran it through his hair, enjoy the soft, silky strands. Behind this mask, she thought, he must be of wealth, no poor commoner would have hair this well cared for.

As she scratched at a particularly sensitive spot behind one of his faux ears, he hummed against her neck, a unintentional notion which sent butterflies beating against her stomach and goosebumps spreading across her skin.  
Chat took this moment as his cue to get back to the matter at hand, which was that _he had a beautiful girl practically sitting in his lap._

With a crooked smirk and a tug on her waist to pull her impossibly close, he hovered his mouth over the soft skin below her ear lobe, breathing hot air onto the cool flesh. "I'll take it that these-" he used a hand to tug off the other glove, ignoring the momentary chill at the loss of warmth as he ran his now un-gloved fingers along her arm, feeling the small bumps under the pads of his finger tips. "Aren't from the cool air?"

Marinette was about to respond when he pressed a kiss against the flesh, before nipping slightly and she gasped, hands tangling in his hair as he suckled on the skin and she all but melted under his mouth as he bit again, _marking her_.   
It took all her willpower to pull him away before he could deepen the mark any further. "I- I can't let my family see a mark. I'm never meant to leave the house, let alone be meeting with strange boys on rooftops in Paris!" She brought her knees to her chest and covered her face, blocking herself from Chat completely.

His heart had dropped at her words, not because she thought he was a strange boy, or because she had pushed him away, but because _she was not allowed to leave her home._ Chat couldn't understand what she meant because he **remembered** her ( _how could he ever forget?_ ) when they were young and she had walked down these very streets that morning with her mother. She had saved his life, saved him from starving when he had been separated from his Father.

Had they become reclusive? Were they hiding from the law? He couldn't imagine the kind woman who had fed him and stroked his hair as a fugitive from the law.

Chat decided it was best not to wonder, and instead held her in his arms, rubbing soothing circles into her back. "Why can't you leave your house, Princess?"  
She stiffened beneath his hold and looked up at him, and he took the chance to hold her chin between his fingers, still hugging her close. She drew a shaky breath and for the first time in her new life, she told someone her story, and for the first time,

_Somebody was there to listen._

When she was done, he just held her tighter, he didn't speak, he didn't judge, he didn't question her, _he was just there_. He let her speak and cry and sob.  
Every moment he was there was torture for him, he wanted nothing more than to sweep her in his arms once again and take her home with him, to make her feel safe, to give her a family. But he knew that his home was as bad as hers, hidden behind a more elaborate façade, and he would not subject her to anymore pain or rejection.

It seemed like hours had passed before the tears stopped and he finally felt it right to speaking, taking her chin in his hand once again and looking into her eyes, his voice was clear, and Marinette couldn't quite put her finger on what else. Anger? She supposed so, but she wondered why he cared so much for a girl he had only just met, ( _although she could ask herself the very same question._ )  
"All you have to do is say the word Princess, and I will take you away from them, you will never have to see them again."

Returning to the Bourgeois mansion that night, an hour before dawn seemed as though it was the hardest thing she had ever done, ( _although climbing from a burning building or out of a well Chloe had pushed her in were close seconds_ ) and she promised Chat that she would visit him the next night, and if anything else was to happen, she would let him take her away.

He helped lower her into her window, before he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, and with a smile and a leap into the night he was gone again, and Marinette was left to ponder all that had happened, and all the choices she was yet to make.

She couldn't sleep, and although she knew ultimately it would be to her detriment ( _she imagined her punishment for falling asleep while mopping_ ), she still couldn't bring herself to shut her eyes as she flipped and flopped on her bed.

She couldn't believe she had jumped from her window, and that was the last she'd say on that manner, she had already scolded herself in the few seconds she was falling.  
Instead Marinette focused on other things, such as how she had felt so free when she was leaping through the air in his arms and- _did she really do that?!_  
And under no circumstances whatsoever did she allow herself to think about the kiss.  
Or how soft his lips were, and how he knew what he was doing when he found that perfect spot on her neck and how good it had felt to just be touched and loved and- _oh god was there a **mark?**_

She rushed to the mirror and promptly examined her neck. Much to her dismay there was a dark red mark forming, barely big enough for his lips.  
She smacked her hands to her forehead and breathed a sigh of relief when she found her hair sat just right to cover the mark and she could finally _relax._

Relaxation never came and she found herself repeating her actions over again for almost and hour and a half. Relive the moments, be flustered about the whole experience, worry about the mark, relax, _rinse and repeat._

Marinette had only just closed her eyes when she realised it was minutes before Madame Bourgeois was due to unlock her door and send her off to begin her chores and she would surely be killed if she was found asleep. Marinette staggered to her feet and stood at attention before her door when the distinct sound of horses and carriages filtered in through her window, and she all but cried as she saw them entering the Bourgeois estate, the Royal flag proudly flying.

When the procession ended, a large, elaborate royal carriage was propped feet away from their front door.  
Marinette pressed her face against the dusty window as the carriage door was opened and a tall sleek woman exited, followed by-  
Marinette swore that she was choking on air as she coughed and spluttered.

_The Prince was here, and he was looking directly at her window, straight at her.  
And he was **smiling.**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to see me do more stuff, feel free to follow my tumblr: www.Metalbendrs.tumblr.com  
> (Make sure to send me a message so we can be friends)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien suffers at the hands of perfume, basically.

The Prince was here, and he was looking directly at her window, straight at her.  
And he was _**smiling**_.

* * *

Marinette wasn't entirely sure how her feet had carried her down the stairs safely, but they had and she had barely tripped at all.  
( _Excluding the first couple stumbles, but that was because she was still thinking about the Prince_.)

Moments ago, Madame Bourgeois had thrown her door open and sent her down to help Chloe and Sabrina, her hair was a tangle of rollers and baby hairs glued to her forehead with sweat. It occurred to Mari that she had never seen Madame so out of control and frazzled.

She did what she was told and thought it best to be _extra_ patient today, for her own sake.

Marinette arrived in the main foyer as Madame Bourgeois frantically searched for a maid to greet the Royals at the door, and quickly searched for her sisters.

She found Chloe standing in the kitchen, a large sauce pot in her hand acting as a makeshift mirror of sorts as she smeared baby blue eyeshadow over her eyelids.

Sabrina stood behind her looking particularly less made up, sweat beading on her forehead as she struggled to lace Chloe's corset.

"Do you want me to look _**FAT**_ in front of the prince, Sabrina? **PULL HARDER**!" Chloe shrieked, lowering the arm holding her makeup brushes to flatten her hand across her corseted stomach.

"I'm _trying_ Chloe! It's just- It's really, _really_ hard!" Sabrina choked out, panting for breath and lifting her foot against the counter for leverage.

"Here, let me help." Marinette smiled softly at Sabrina, who had tears in the corners of her eyes, and placed a comforting hand on her arm before taking the laces from her.

"Suck in Chloe!" Mari chimed before pulling tightly on the strings, the muscles in her arms, which had developed immensely from years of strenuous cleaning, barely even strained.

Chloe gasped, not at all expecting the sudden tightness of the corse on account of Marinette's strength, and in her effort to breath, Chloe doubled over at the knees before loosing her balance and falling flat on her face.

Marinette tried to stifle a giggle, but the sound slipped through the cracks of her lips. She had slapped her hand to her mouth, expecting a glare from both sisters. But to her surprise, Sabrina had clutched a hand over her mouth to cover her laughter too.

Chloe was more than distraught, as she heaved herself up using the counter and Sabrina's skirt.

"How _dare_ you play a trick like that on me, Marinette! You're just jealous of me because the prince would **never** notice you!" Chloe seethed, a perfectly manicured nail pointed accusingly at Marinette's chest.

At this, Marinette took a step back, bracing her hands on the stove top. "I'm sorry Chloe- I- I didn't mean to hurt you. You just said you wanted it tighter. I was only trying to help Sabrina." Mari could felt her knuckles grow white as she grasped the steel behind her tightly, and she bit her tongue to stop her from speaking until she tasted blood.

Chloe's lip quivered and she looked as though she was going to continue her rampage when instead she let out a large huff, turned on her heel and left the kitchen in search of someone competent to fix her hair.

Sabrina looked more fish than girl when Mari turned to her, her eyes wide as she opened and closed her mouth, trying to find the right words to say. In the end, she settled with a nod and scurried after Chloe, and Marinette was left to clean the mess they had made.

* * *

 

Marinette's hair fell in loose knotted waves around her face as she scrubbed at the stubborn splotch of nail polish on the kitchen floor.  
She tucked the same strand behind her ear for the millionth time, before resigning to reach for the ribbon tied soundly around her wrist.

She blew a puff of air from her lips as she attempted to tie her hair into a messy ponytail, rather than her usual pigtails, the ratty piece of ribbon she had been using every day for also two years however, had decided it was done with its job and promptly ripped into two short stumps of material.

With a sigh of indignation, Mari tucked the ribbon into the pocket of her apron and allowed her hair to flow freely just past her shoulders.

Quickly she combed through the tresses using her fingers before returning to work on the dried patch of spilt liquid.

* * *

 

Adrien sat, rather uncomfortably he might add, in the middle of the ugliest sitting room he had ever seen. As he looked at the decorations surrounding him, he was beginning to think that his idea of meeting each girl before the ball was a **terrible** idea.

All around him brightly coloured flowers stared at the prince from every possible surface.

They were embroidered into the stiff cushions, painted on the walls and adorned the mantle. Bathing the room with a stench he could only describe as fake lavender.

( _However upon inspection, Adrien noticed that there was no lavender to be seen in the room. It was now becoming increasingly obvious, from the waves of lavender coming from the exact direction of her, that the Madame of the house had doused the room with her perfume upon his arrival._ )

On his side Nathalie sat, just as stoic as ever, a small piece of parchment in her hand which included the names of all young women who were attending his ball, one of these which he soon had to select to be his bride.

Adrien knew what was expected of him, it had been drilled into his head for as long as he could remember, although he would be lying if he said he had never dreamed of marrying for love and not for some sort of advantage.

He was lucky, Nathalie had told him, and he supposed he was. He least got to to meet and choose the girl he would marry.

He then remembered his caretakers stern response when he had asked what would happen if he fell in love with a poor common girl.

"You are a _prince_ , Adrien, and love does not exist. You are lucky that you are not being shipped a bride you have never met from across the world in order to secure a truce, and are instead marrying a girl from your kingdom."

And when he had asked why, her response had been sharp and final.

"We do this because it shows that we care for our subjects. This keeps them loyal, and keeps us in our rightful place. _In power_."

He had simply nodded and turned his cheek. He did not agree with Nathalie or his Father, love did exist and marriage shouldn't be about power.  
Something so special should never have an ulterior motive.

Marriage should be about truly loving someone. Someone who makes you the best version of yourself, someone who will stand by you through every rise and fall.  
Power or no power, wealthy or poor.

( _'They love you for just being you, not for being a prince.'_ He had thought to himself.)

He shook away the memory and remembered the most important part of meeting the Bourgeois'.  
"Nathalie, how many girls from this household am I to meet?" Adrien asked, crossing his ankles and turning his head to face her.

Nathalie let out a short hum before she looked down at her scroll and quickly scanned the list. "Just two, Sabrina and Chloe Bourgeois. Aged 17 and 18." She informed him and with a nod Adrien turned back to stare at the wall curiously.

Being the fool that he was, he had deposited his Princess back through her window, said his goodbyes and bounded back towards the city with a goofy grin on his face and it was not until he had almost reached the walls of the castle did he realise that _she had never given him her name._

It was far too late to go back, so he entered his room, had gotten changed and tried to remember if she had ever mentioned anything. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep and was being woken by his maids and shooed off to the bath.

_And he still didn't know her name._

* * *

 

When the blonde girl reached the bottom of the stairs, Adrien gasped.

Not because he was in awe of her beauty, or that she was in any way breathtaking, but because she had somehow managed to wear more perfume than her mother and he was struggling to breathe over the scent of vanilla and artificial rose.

When she reached the young Prince, she had curtsied and held it for much too long, so long that Adrien grew quite uncomfortable and asked her to stand up.

She promptly introduced herself as Chloe Bourgeois and held out a hand.  
He was sure she expected him to kiss it, but he refused to put his mouth anywhere near her in fear he would choke on her perfume once again.  
Instead he took her hand awkwardly between both of his and gave a slight bow in greeting.

She proceeded to stand much too close to him for his liking and more than once he had stepped away. ( _And every time, she followed._ ) In the end, he simply resorted to breathing slow and deep breaths through his mouth in order to not pass out.

The younger sister was sweet and quiet. She hurried down the stairs, looking more than uncomfortable. She introduced herself as Sabrina, offered a polite curtsy and shook his hand before scuttling off to stand with her sister.

He looked to Nathalie for help, but she was busy scribbling notes about both girls, and Madame Bourgeois had just begun directing back to the sitting room for tea when he interrupted.

"What about the girl in the attic?" Adrien turned to face the older woman, who stood impressively still and cocked an eyebrow at his question.

Nathalie sent him a warning glance. ( _He ignored it._ )

"There was a girl in the attic when we arrived, you said that all your maids had been working here for over twenty years, but she doesn't look much older than your daughters, Madame."

Chloe chewed her lip incessantly, fuming in a quiet rage, and Sabrina twiddled her thumbs nervously. Madame Bourgeois however, was visibly annoyed.

"She's a orphaned servant girl who cleans our floors and out of the kindness of my heart I allow her to live in our attic." Madame spat, teetering on the edge of disrespect that left Nathalie clearing her throat in warning at the woman.

Adrien frowned.  
"I'd like to meet her." He informed Nathalie, who briefly nodded. "I don't see why not, if she is worthy of living with you, then she may very well be a respectable young woman." Nathalie had replied, her gaze turning from the young prince to Madame Bourgeois, whose disapproval was clear on her face.

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to find Chloe standing **much** too close once again.

"Let _me_ fetch her, your highness." Chloe smirked, curtsying once more.  
"No no! Don't worry, _I'll_ get her, Chloe!" Sabrina chimed, waving her hands and already beginning to move in the direction of the attic.  
"Nonsense!" Madame Bourgeois bellowed. "I will call her down her this instant."

" _No._ " Adrien responded, calmly lifting a hand to silence all three women.

"I'd like to go meet her myself."

* * *

Madame Bourgeois had sent her daughters to the sitting room and informed Adrien that she would lead him to the attic.

The stairs to the attic were old and years of use had created dips and discolouration in the wood. As he stood at the base of the stairs, he noted the difference between the entrance to the attic and the magnificent staircase in the main foyer.

He did not trust the old stairs, and instructed Nathalie to wait at the bottom and that he would call her up if need be. She agreed with reluctance and Adrien followed Madame Bourgeois alone.

When they reached the top, the woman drew a set of keys from her pocket, and although she had tried to do it without his knowledge, he had seen the movement and eyed her suspiciously. Madame Bourgeois had just smiled nervously in response.

When the door was unlocked, Madame stepped aside and allowed the Prince to push the door open himself. Stepping inside the spacious attic and searching the room cautiously before his eyes landed on _her._

She was sitting on the windowsill, quietly sketching in what appeared to be scraps of parchment, bound together with cloth. She was looking obliviously out the window, studying the beautifully crafted ensembles of the Royal guardsmen.

The light caught in her hair, which was no longer held in pigtails but instead fell in delicate waves, and made it appear a brilliant midnight blue. He attempted to fights smile, as in the brightness of the morning, he could see the bare outlines of light freckles that spotted her nose and exposed shoulders.

While the Madame and her daughters had seemingly primped and preened for hours, his lady was a natural beauty.

"Marinette, we have a very special guest." Madame Bourgeois called from somewhere behind him, her voice oddly strained ( _as if she was struggling to speak nicely._ )  
However, he couldn't care less about the old, rude woman who was puttering anxiously around the doorway.

_Her name was **Marinette** , and she was the most exquisite creature he had ever had the pleasure of meeting._

She quickly turned, standing on clumsy legs and she curtsied sweetly before him, cheeks flushing a deep red as her eyes looked everywhere and anywhere but him.  
"Y-Your Highness! It's- It is-uh- an honour to meet you."

Marinette mentally cursed herself for her stuttering, ( _'Oh good one Mari- now he thinks you're an imbecile!_ ') and drew a deep breath, lifting her eyes to meet his.

Adrien swore his heart stopped when her eyes meet his, in the daytime they were oceans of shimmering sky blue and for a moment he didn't exactly know what to say.

It wasn't until he heard the click of Nathalie's shoes as she began to ascend the stairs, that he quickly sobered and regained any type of thought.

Adrien took Marinette's hand in his, bowed slightly and pressed his lips the back of her hand softly. ( _So softly she would've not believed he had kissed her at all if she was not watching him doing it._ )

" _Believe me, **the honour is all mine**_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Chloe u suck so bad when will you ever learn  
> Also lets all take a moment to realise that Marinette didn't fall when she curtsied #blessed


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathalie makes it happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the support! I never thought this fic would actually get any love, and don't worry, there's more to come!  
> Excuse this short chapter, it may flow strangely and it may seem a bit out of place, but try to read between the lines.

_"Believe me, **the honour is all mine** "_

* * *

The clock on the wall ticked anxiously, only further promoting the awkwardness in the air. Nathalie scanned the room, observing the four women closely as she analysed them. Once again she began scribbling notes which would allow her to efficiently report back to King Gabriel.

The servant girl sat across from Prince Adrien, feet crossed at the ankle and knees pressed firmly together. From what Nathalie could gather, she appeared to be counting the leaves in the bottom of her tea cup.  
When she lifted her eyes and caught Nathalie's glance, she smiled politely and nodded her head before promptly returning her eyes to her empty cup.

Chloe Bourgeois sat much too closely too the Prince, as she had for most of the morning, and spoke quietly into his ear, things that Nathalie couldn't quite make out but seemed to make the Prince squirm. Nathalie eyed the girl suspiciously, and had the urge to completely slander her name in her report back to the King. But as much as Nathalie despised the young woman, ( _who was frankly quite dumb and not particularly entertaining_ ), she couldn't deny that Gabriel would approve of her.   
She was pretty, she was wealthy and she had determination of a magnitude Nathalie had never encountered.

Nathalie may dislike Chloe Bourgeois, but it was hard not to respect her passion and drive for getting what she wanted.

Sabrina Bourgeois was an unassuming, bland, and respectful girl. She did not speak unless spoken too, she kept her distance from the Prince and still maintained polite ( _yet forced_ ) small talk.  
Nathalie regarded her as the most viable option for marriage she had met so far. She did not fight for Prince Adrien's attention and she was not searching for power or wealth, she did not want to win, she was just happy to be in the race.

Sabrina Bourgeois was content to allow others to take control.  
But in this process she became a doormat and Nathalie did not think that dirty footprints were very Royal at all.

Nathalie then turned her attention to Madame Bourgeois and puckered her lips in distaste. Madame Bourgeois reminded Nathalie too much of herself, yet disgusted her with their differences all at once.  
There was no denying that the woman was power hungry and would stop at nothing to achieve said power.  
Nathalie understood this drive, as she felt it herself, but resented the woman's willingness to involve herself in foul play.

Nathalie didn't allow herself to continue drawing comparison, as the sour taste in her mouth and the heavy weight in her stomach were not feelings she enjoyed.

Instead she focused on finishing her note taking, but as she looked between the two Bourgeois daughters one thing became clear, if either of them were to win Adrien's affections, the whole kingdom would suffer at the hands of a Princess or, ( _God forbid_ ),  _Queen_ , under the control of Madame Bourgeois.

With a gulp and nagging feeling, because she knew it wrong, Nathalie looked to the servant girl once more and now studied her with piqued interest.

She was sweet, and her cheeks flushed each time she caught the eye of Prince Adrien, and going by how often he was looking at her, Nathalie thought the girl might faint from lack of proper blood flow.

There was a lightness to the servant girl, ( _who's name she vaguely remembered but did not care enough to dwell on_ ), that Sabrina and Chloe Bourgeois simply did not posses.

It was a strange effect the girl had. Where she sat seemed warm and comfortable despite the stiffness of the couch and the slight chill of the morning. It made Nathalie want to reach out and run her fingers along the fabric.

So despite all her moral objections, Nathalie informed Madame Bourgeois that she had an extra ticket for the ball and was to give it only to a young woman she saw fit, and asked for the servant girls full name so she may add it to the list of attendees.

When Madame Bourgeois interrupted to imply a ball was no place for a servant to mingle among high society, Nathalie had to _carefully_ remind her that this was decree of the King, and if she disobeyed it would be considered Treason.

Madame Bourgeois begrudgingly replied, and Nathalie called out the prince so that they may leave.

As they left the home, Nathalie remarked that she looked forward to seeing all three girls in attendance the next night, before hurrying Prince Adrien into the carriage and vacating the premises.

* * *

Nathalie stared out the window of the quickly moving carriage, and at the thought of a sweet servant girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng smiling kindly at Adrien in a white gown, she fought hard against a smile that tickled the back of her lips.

It was wrong and she knew that, but Nathalie found herself wondering for the first time in her life, _was it really so wrong to fall in love_?

* * *

Marinette was still attempting to process all that had happened in just under two hours. She had met the Prince, he had kissed her hand and told her she was beautiful as they sat for tea, and now she had been deemed worthy by his caretaker and invited to the ball.

She would be lying if she said her heart wasn't filled to the brim with so much happiness that all she wanted to do was sing and dance around her room.

Madame Bourgeois, however was still in shock. She relieved Marinette of her chores and sent her for leisure time in her room until supper.

So Marinette watched in disbelief from the doorway as Madame placed a hand over her forehead, as if checking her temperature, before laying down on the chaise ( _rather gracelessly_ ) and closing her eyes.

Unsure of whether or not to go to Madame's aid, Marinette hesitated in the doorway before biting her lip and heading to her room.  
She needed all the time she could get to find a dress to wear to the ball.

As she ascended the stairs, she brushed some stray hairs behind her ear, running her fingers along the mark she knew resided there.  
At the thought of Chat Noir's lips on her neck, she shivered and paused her movement for a moment, before hurrying quickly up the remainder of the steps.

Why was her stomach doing flips for the Prince, when she was basically making out with Chat only hours ago.

And why did she feel so guilty?

* * *

 

Nathalie stood before King Gabriel, several sheets of parchment rolled together clutched tightly to her chest as he looked down at her with steely grey eyes.

He let out a soft, bored sigh. "How many did he meet today?" He asked without an sliver of interest, drumming his fingers on the arm rest of his throne.

"The last fourteen, My King." She bowed slightly, extending a page of parchment as an offering. He motioned with his hand and a young male servant with flame red hair darted from beside him to collect it.

The servant ran quickly between the two, arriving at the Kings feet and taking a knee, holding the parchment above his head and keeping his eyes downcast.  
Gabriel took the scroll and shooed away the young man.

Nathalie stood poised at attention as the King read through the names and notes she had written of all young women, stopping every few girls to ask for further analysis.

"Chloe Bourgeois?" He stated, more than asked.

"Wealthy, quite pretty, and from a prominent family." Gabriel nodded at the mention if the Bourgeois'. "She was eager to please the Prince and, of course, you, My King. She was extremely eager, in fact." Nathalie informed, hands twitching with the need to move as she held them clasped together politely in front of her.

The King only hummed again in response, continuing his reading before furrowing his brows. "Who is Marinette Dupain-Cheng? I do not remember such a name on my list."  
Gabriel appeared outraged, if only to hide the confusion that flurried through his mind.  
The name itself seemed oddly familiar and he struggled to place a connection.

"Well- she was introduced to me as a servant girl of the Bourgeois household-" at this Gabriel scoffed, but Nathalie persisted, "however, she seemed far too well taught to be a mere servant. She was literate, you see. There was a familiarity about her also..." Nathalie explained, twisting her fingers anxiously.

King Gabriel nodded in agreement, and Nathalie visibly relaxed as she continued.

"I had the Library search the archives for her name." Nathalie produced a sheet of parchment and read aloud.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng, only child of _Tom and Sabine Dupain-Cheng_ -" Gabriel stiffened in his chair at the names.

A shot of pain twisted at the King's heart as he remembered the days following his wife's funeral when Adrien's carriage had been stopped and ransacked and the young Prince had run for his life, finding himself lost.

He remembered the fear that had struck him when he was informed of the Prince's disappearance. It was not that Gabriel had been scared for his son, he was more scared of how numb he felt.

How indifferent towards his sons safety he had been.

He remembered that three days had past when a maid had arrived at the throne, frantically telling him that his son had been found half starved to death in the winding streets of Paris by a humble baker and his wife.

He remembered holding his son close for the first time since he was an infant, and telling him to stop crying.

He remembered the Bakers' daughter clearly, with blue eyes and black hair who had curtsied and sat politely at the table in such a way that many women of age struggled to do.

One moment those memories were at the forefront of his mind so vividly and the next they were gone, shook out of his stupor as Nathalie continued.

"-Killed tragically when their bakery set fire 10 years ago. Marinette was then taken in by Madame Bourgeois and her daughters and there has been no record of the girl since."

Gabriel had heard enough and raised a hand. He looked back at the parchment before setting it down in his lap. "Thank you Nathalie. I trust you've made the correct decision."  
Nathalie nodded and turned, beginning to exit.

He thought back on the young girl he had met so long ago, and wondered how she had grown.

He called to Nathalie as she left, the sound rooted her in place as King Gabriel hardly raised his voice, she feared the worst, and his next words left her feeling surprisingly uneasy.

"I'm **intrigued** to meet her once again."

* * *

Marinette was unsure of the time, but she knew it was late. She glanced to the sky and noted that it appeared to be sometime before midnight.

She had tried to sleep a little bit before supper but her eyes were glued open and her mind still raced in thought. As she listened to the slowly dying noise downstairs, she regarded that in a little over an hour, it would be safe to leave.

Chat had said nothing more than that he would meet her _'late tomorrow evening'_ , so she was left to assume that he had meant midnight.  
She pulled her covers up tighter around her at the thought of Chat, and how he had seduced a stranger after kidnapping her from her home.

' _That's not entirely true, you **were** trying to escape.'_ The high pitched voice of Tikki teased from the back of her mind, and she quieted it by giving the plush doll a stern look before laughing at herself.

Nearly half an hour had passed, and she was beginning to question how exactly he would get her out of the window again. ( _Would he tell her to jump like last time?_ ) Lost in thought, Marinette nearly missed the sound of heels clicking against the wooden stairs.

With a gasp she turned away and pulled her covers up to her neck, squeezing her eyes shut as the door was slowly unlocked.

The footsteps traced a path around her room, but avoided her bed. She listened closely as keys were jingled and she wondered what was happening.

Faking sleep, she turned and peeked from the corner of her eyes, Madame Bourgeois leaned casually against her windowsill, keys in hand, and stared out upon the gardens. She closed her eyes as she saw Madame turning towards her.

"Oh Marinette, sweet, foolish Marinette. As if you truly thought I wouldn't notice that ugly mark you tried to hide. You disobeyed my orders, and you will pay."

She heard Madame Bourgeois' heels tapping against the wood, and then she felt a cold hand against her forehead, brushing her hair back from her face.

_"Sleep tight **Marinette**."_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aka AU Nathalie is just Normal Nathalie with paper instead of a tablet. She don't change that much.  
> Also- Madame wtf u doing girl. 
> 
> As always, keep up with me on tumblr and annoy me there- @Metalbendrs
> 
> (Yo extra points to annoy who speculated about what's gonna happen next)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chap is short XD  
> The next few chapters are pure angst so prepare yourself. (The fluff will return dw)

_"Sleep tight **Marinette."**_

* * *

Marinette's breathing became laboured the moment she was alone in her room. She hurriedly threw herself out of bed, feet tangling in the sheet and and she stumbled to stand in the middle of the room.

For what seemed like the longest few seconds of her life, panic flooded Marinette's senses and glued her to the ground before she was able to teeter in the direction of the window. Her eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, and she stumbled blindly for a few moments before her hands found the cool glass.  
She moved her fingers frantically along the sill, fighting against the latch that was now securely bolted in place.

She stepped away, her chest heaving as breaths came short.

If she listened closely under the sounds of her breathing, she could faintly Madame Bourgeois from behind the thick wooden door. She followed the noise to direct her back to the middle of the room, her clumsy footsteps echoing across the wood.  
Quickly it became apparent to Madame that Marinette was not asleep, and the noises became louder and less controlled.  
There was shuffling, four loud bangs in quick succession and a sinister cackle.

Then it was all gone.

The sudden silence was shocking, and if Marinette had not heard the faint echo of Madame Bourgeois' heels, she could have easily believed that it was all a dream.

As her eyes adjusted to the pale moonlight, she let out a long breath she hadn't known she had been holding, trying to steady her shaky legs and mind as she crept towards the door.  
The wood of the floorboards was cool and noisy beneath her thin socks, and she could feel each bump under her toes as she inched closer and closer to the only remaining exit.

When she extended her hands and felt the tough wood beneath her fingers, she stepped closer, arms still held out in front for guidance.  
Her head cocked to the side involuntarily and she swallowed the lump in her throat as she reached out a quivering hand to find the frighteningly cold metal of the door handle in her grasp.

Marinette breathed in deeply and on the exhale of said breath, she slowly twisted the handle down, a soft click of metal echoed through the silent room as the handle stopped abruptly. Her breathing hitched in her throat as she tried again. And again. And again.  
She pushed on the handle with both hands one last time, a sob escaping her throat with the movement.

She brought the pair of trembling hands to her face, her breathing shallow as she stopped herself from reaching out to the handle in vain.  
Instead she took a few shaky steps back, and locked her bleary vision back onto the door. She wiped hurriedly at her face, rubbing her eyes and bringing them slowly down her face as she sobered herself.

Marinette counted down quickly before she ran and threw her body against the door, slamming her shoulder into the wood, which creaked under the invasion but did not budge.  
She stepped back and tried again.

As her body collided with the wood once more, she felt a sharp pain sent lightning bolts through her arm and she fell to the floor and scrambled away, her back hitting the opposite wall with a dull **_thud_**.

As she sat shaking against the wall, Marinette felt as though her body was about to shut down, sobs now flowed freely through her lips and every part of her trembled with either fear or pain. She clutched her knees to her chest, wincing at the flex of her shoulder shot fresh pain through the area.

She tried dumbly to steady her breathing, before giving in to the sobs that willed themselves through her lips.  
She drew another large gulp of air before inspecting her shoulder.

A perfectly timed sob erupted as she remarked upon the splinter of wood that tore through her night clothes and her skin. Her entire shoulder was bright red and already beginning to bruise, and the perimeter around where the splinter protruded was seeping softly with blood.

She clutched her head in her hands and stared wide eyed at the floor through her knees, failing again to steady her breathing but sending herself once again into a panic.

Marinette tried to remind herself that it would all be okay, soon Chat Noir would knock on her window and find her there. He would know what to do. All she had to do was hold on to her sanity for a little while longer, and then everything would be fine.

She just had to hold on.

* * *

_Chat Noir never came, and Marinette gagged herself with the fabric of her own skirt as she pulled out the splinter._

* * *

 

Coincidentally, In a palace not too far away, Prince Adrien lay trapped in a similar situation.  
In preparation for the ball his father had appointed a rotation of guards to stand by at his door, checking in regularly to make sure he had been well rested and safe.  
At the slightest noise, a guards head would peek through the door and inspect the room.

He couldn't blame them, this ball was extremely important and they were under strict orders, but he couldn't help but feel angry because all he needed was an hour alone to visit her, to check on her.

( _If he was being honest with himself, he felt extremely selfish, hogging Marinette all to himself under the guise of two different men, but truth be told he couldn't find it in himself to care_.)

Hours passed slowly and he still couldn't escape. Every time he got past the foot of his bed, the slightest creak of the floorboards would cause a face to appear in his doorway, and watch as he tried to causally walk to the bathroom and back.

He couldn't get anywhere near his closet. To do that would require Chat Noir-esque stealth. But without the suit Chat Noir was just Adrien Agreste. ( _and Adrien Agreste was clumsy with feet made of lead._ )

He directed his thoughts back to Marinette, and a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach formed. He was scared for her now that he had seen first hand the horrors of the Bourgeois household. ( _And he wasn't talking about Chloe's eyeshadow_.)

Madame Bourgeois had been utterly livid when Nathalie had put Marinette on the list for the ball. His fear for Marinette's safety had overrode his happiness when he looked from Marinette's smiling face, to Madame Bourgeois' scowling one. It took all his strength to not pick her up and bring her back to the castle right there.  
And now, thanks to him, his princess was surely facing the repercussions of overshadowing her "sisters".

He shuddered at the thought of her hunched over in a dirty room, muck covering her cheeks as she scrubbed at the the floors.  
He would never forgive himself if his persistence to be with her only made her suffer more.

He looked numbly to the clock that stood against the far wall. 6:45. He was six and a half hours late to meet her. He could imagine as she stood, arms crossed but still blushing as he begged for her forgiveness. She'd give in, of course, and they'd laugh and take to the streets, smiling the whole way.  
Somehow this only set Adrien's mind at rest slightly.

* * *

When Nathalie and his assortment of tailors rushed into his room fifteen minutes later to make last minute preparations to his suit, he allowed his arms to fall limply at his sides and his shoulders to hunch slightly.

Nathalie asked if he was feeling alright. He didn't respond.

His mind was far away, hunched in the corner of a dirty attic.

* * *

The hours ticked by as Marinette sat weakly. She desperately needed to go to the bathroom, and her stomach was beginning to ache from lack of food or water.

Below she could hear Chloe's giggles as she prepared for the ball, she could hear the loud singing and excited chatter. Sabrina had laughed loudly at a joke, and she could only imagine the smiles on their faces as the public preened themselves.

For the first time in her life with the Bourgeois', the itch of resentment in Marinette's throat began to morph into something much larger, something she couldn't quite swallow or ignore.

She scrambled to her feet once again, feeling the anger pool in her stomach and pull tightly at her brain, making it pound dizzyingly. With the last of her strength, she let out an ungodly scream ( _one reminiscent of Chloe's constant tantrums_ ) and stomped her feet against the boards in a similar fashion to a toddler.

By the shaking of the wood beneath her feet, she was sure dust would be flying in the room below her.  
_Good._

* * *

Chloe and Sabrina let out shrieks as the dust flew all over their gowns and bodies.

Chloe was furiously dusting herself and all of her possessions off, but Sabrina was more concerned with Marinette's scream.

When the dust settled, she turned her eyes to the ceiling, hearing something drop to the ground. ( _Little did Sabrina know that it was Marinette collapsing_.)  
She looked to Chloe, completely expecting indifference or annoyance at the setback, but when her eyes caught Chloe's upturned face she was shocked to see concern.

"Marinette?" Chloe called, her voice shaky and so different to what Sabrina was used to hearing. "Marinette are you okay?" She continued, stepping into the centre of the room, eyes still on the ceiling.

_Marinette didn't respond._

Chloe's eyes fell to Sabrina and they shared a strange look that neither could quite place.  
Sabrina turned back to the ceiling, but Chloe had other plans. The blonde rushed for the entrance to the attic, abandoning her makeup and dress as she clambered up the stairs. Sabrina followed quickly, albeit confused.

When they reached the top, they found that the large grandfather clock, and an old cabinet had been placed hastily against the door, balancing dangerously on the small clearing.

Both girls could do nothing but stare dumbfounded as to what has happening.  
Beyond the monstrosity of a barricade, faint crying could be heard.  
Chloe clutched a hand to her mouth, shaking her head as she vainly reached for the door that was now hidden.

Neither girl flinched at the sound of heels retracing their paths up the stairs, and when the footsteps stopped shortly behind them, Chloe only shook her head more violently.

" _Oh Mother- What have you **done**_?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to believe in this AU that deep down Chloe has a conscience and really does love Marinette as a sister, but her need to be the best eats at her alive.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe and Sabrina take a stand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare yourselves

_"Oh Mother- What have you **done**?"_

* * *

 

Chloe felt strange to say the least.

She has known Marinette since they were only children, and never once in her life has Chloe felt any need to be kind to her. She hated Marinette.

Marinette was pretty and kind and she was happy despite her odds and Chloe _loathed_ her.

It wasn't fair!   
While Chloe spent years and countless remedies to cure the pimples on her face during puberty, Marinette's face remained soft and clean.   
When Chloe invited her closest friends from school to have tea one afternoon, they completely ignored her and instead gushed over Marinette's beautiful dark tresses and thin waist.   
When Chloe invited her first boyfriend over, Marinette was scrubbing the pots in the kitchen and for once, someone would see her for what she was, _a dirty servant_. But instead, he had pushed Chloe's face away and asked about the pretty girl cleaning the house.   
When the prince came to meet Chloe, he was more captivated by Marinette.

Chloe had always thought she hated Marinette.  
But maybe she was just jealous.

She had spent years tearing her down, trying to crush Marinette's invincible spirit, but for what? A petty rivalry that Marinette did not choose to enter?   
What good was a war when there was nothing to fight about?

This wasn't exactly a shocking revelation to Chloe, in fact she had figured as much years ago. She couldn't say she didn't know why she continued to torment Marinette, because it was crystal clear and always in the back of her mind.

Because Chloe didn't like her nose, or her eyes, the shape of her legs or the width of her thighs. Chloe didn't like much about herself, but she liked the way she felt when Marinette was small. Chloe liked the feeling of being the best, the prettiest and the smartest.  
But Chloe could never be the kindest.

She hated Marinette so that she wouldn't hate herself.  

And it ate her inside to know that she was so horrible to poor Marinette, but she couldn't stop.

Chloe had never bothered to learn much about Marinette. But if she knew one thing for damn sure it was that Marinette was her sister and she loved her very much.

_And she would not stand for this any longer._

* * *

Sabrina wasn't used to being defiant. She wasn't sure if she had ever actually defied anything her Mother or Chloe had told her to do. 

So when Chloe said "push Marinette" Sabrina said "how hard?"

She hated herself for it. She was a spineless jellyfish who tortured a kind soul, she was worth nothing more than the dirty rats in the street. She had time and time again ruthlessly followed Chloe's orders with full intention to hurt Marinette.   
And yet, Marinette never hated her for it.

Sabrina had pushed Marinette into a bucket of dirty water, and she relayed her with fresh cookies and a smile.   
Sabrina had cut holes in Marinette's only dress and Marinette responded with custom clothes for Sabrina's rabbit made from the leftover scraps of her dress.   
Sabrina filled her bed with crickets and Marinette helped lace Chloe's corset when Sabrina couldn't.   
Sabrina was continuously nasty and Marinette responded with a gentle hand on her arm and a comforting smile.

After all Marinette had done for her, she always betrayed her.

Sabrina had always done what Chloe told her to do, so she had no problem following the next orders she gave.

" _Sabrina help me move these **awful** things_!"

* * *

 

Madame Bourgeois grabbed Chloe's arm, tearing her away from the door and forcing her to look into her eyes. Sabrina froze, stood flush against the makeshift barricade, paralysed with fear.

"My daughters-" her grip on Chloe's arm loosened "-you must believe me when I tell you that everything I do, I do it for you. I do these things so you may have the best chances at life, so that you may find all you wish for."   
With her other hand, Madame beckoned for Sabrina, who only pressed herself closer to the slightly overturned grandfather clock.

Sabrina could feel the ticking of the seconds rattling her bones through the skin of her back, and she shuddered under her mother's icy stare.   
Chloe yanked her arm free, stumbling back to join Sabrina, arms clutched protectively across her own chest.

"I want **no** part in this, Mother. She's our sister and she does not deserve this." Chloe spoke quietly, and she was unsure if she had ever heard her own voice so fragile. When her arms dropped to her side, she found Sabrina's warm hand with her own, and locked their fingers tightly.

Madame Bourgeois shifted, looking down at her daughters with disgust. Her lips curled into a snarl as she spoke. "I'm afraid you do not have a choice, _Chloe and Sabrina Bourgeois_. You are **my** daughters and you obey **my** orders. Let me make one thing _very_ clear. **She** -" Madame pointed haphazardly towards the door of the attic "-is not, nor will she ever be, your **sister**. She is a servant. And if either of you speak out of turn on her behalf again, I will lock you in there with her and move to the country and you may all die together. _Do. You. Understand_?"

All courage drained from both Chloe and Sabrina, and despite the distant sobbing from behind the barricade, the descended the stairs together, heads hung low in shame as they resumed preparing for the ball.

* * *

 

Smiles long gone and hearts heavy, Chloe and Sabrina climbed idly into the carriage, both sets of eyes staring hopelessly at a small dirty window.  
Sabrina rested her head against Chloe's shoulder, fighting the urge to burst into tears at any moment.

Chloe wiped a stray tear from her cheek, careful not to smudge the makeup she so painstakingly applied ( _it already had to be re-done twice for the very same reason_ )

"Marinette, I'm so sorry."

* * *

 

Chat raced through the trees and soft roofs of the town, arms aching with exertion and begging him to slow down, but he couldn't.   
The closer to the Bourgeois household he drew, the worse he began to feel.

And the carriage carrying only three women only churned his stomach more.

He had to be quick, he was only given two hours of leisure time. ( _which was massive, and he assumed a miscommunication, but Adrien had taken full advantage and would not look back_.)

While still gasping for breath after landing soundlessly atop the Bourgeois mansion, Chat began to scale the wall towards the window.

With a vice-like grip on the ledge of the rooftop, he leaned back to allow himself to see inside and knocked loudly on the window.   
After a few moments of silence he knocked again. No response.

Chat shimmied across, leaning back once again and attempting to swing the window open, but inside the latched groaned and remained shut.   
He furrowed his brows together and tried to look closer into the window, eyes landing on a dark shape hunched in the far corner of the room.

His heart skipped a beat.

" **Princess?** " Chat couldn't control the crack of his voice when he called to her, nor could he control his next actions.

He placed both hands on the ledge, swung his legs out and kicked the window, cracking the glass under his boot. He swung again, jaw clenched tightly as it fractured slightly.   
With a low growl and one last swing, shards of glass shattered around his feet as he tumbled into the window.

Chat rolled to his knees, barely registering the small pricks beneath his knees because something was _very_ wrong.

"Princess what have they done to you?" He clambered to Marinettes frail form, scooping her into his arms and looking down at her soft features.   
He ran the back of a now ungloved finger down the side of her cheek, shaking his head as she lay motionlessly in his arms.

Then, like a whisper from the heavens, her lips parted and her brows drew together ever so slightly.   
"P-Prin-ce A-drien- is t-that you?"

_Both Adrien and Chat Noir stiffened above her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped this wasn't too emotionally draining, but idk. 
> 
> Chloe is a really good person deep down but that doesn't mean she's gonna stop being a bitch let's be real here. 
> 
> As always you can find me on tumblr @metalbendrs.
> 
> Next chapter is the start of the ball I stg.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Off to the ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It begins!  
> (Sorry for leaving you guys hanging!)

_"P-Prin-ce A-drien- is t-that you?"  
Both Adrien and Chat Noir stiffened above her._

 

* * *

 

Marinette's eyes remained closed, and a frail hand reached weakly up, searching for him. Her hand found its way to his cheek, and he leant softly into the warmth, faintly breathing in the scent of her.

He stared down at her, his mind screaming to respond, say something- anything. But he couldn't. He couldn't find the words to say, he couldn't find the words to explain why the crown prince of France dressed like a cat and ran around the streets of Paris.

He swallowed his pride, thumb rubbing circles into her cheek absentmindedly before tilting his head to allow her fingers to brush against the edge of his mask.

"Marinette...open your eyes."

* * *

 

Marinette's gut twisted as she felt something hard underneath her fingers. She gasped, and screwed her eyes shut harder in confusion.   
Then he spoke again, and she was never more sure that the arms holding her tightly belonged to the prince, but the weathered leather mask that sat flush against his skin said ( _screamed_ ) otherwise.

Suddenly Marinettes world was more than the swirling lines and darkness behind her eyelids and colour raced to her eyes almost blindingly. She had to blink a few times to allow her eyes to adjust to the sudden light.

The room around her was an explosion of reds and pinks, the sunset bounced off the shards of broken glass and illuminated the walls, but for Marinette, brilliant green was all she could see.

Her eyes welled with tears as her hand began to shake against his face, pink lips curving into a smile. The first of many tears fell as she spoke in hushed whispers.

"It's you."

He took her hand and guided it to the black ribbon that held his mask in place, willing her to remove the mask and reveal what she already knew.   
She tugged lightly at the material, fingers deftly untying the silky bow, and the mask fell soundlessly into the space between them.   
Marinettes hand crept back to his cheek, drawing him closer to her with a widened smile.

Adrien's own tears began to fall as he pressed his hand atop hers, laughing quietly to cover a sob as Marinette looked up at him with soft eyes filled with the love he craved so much. They stayed like that for a perfect moment, before he pulled her impossibly close to him, chests flush and Marinette could feel his hot breath against her mouth for the second time in the short span of a few days.

Adrien, Chat, or whoever they were together, (Marinette couldn't care less, because she had fallen for the same boy twice, and so long as he was him, his name didn't matter), snaked his arm around to cup her face.   
In the moment before he pressed his lips to hers, he whispered a response.

"It will always be me."

* * *

 

The long journey to the ball allowed Chloe more than enough time to devise a master plan to save Marinette, Sabrina **and** herself. ( _What? As if she was going to let them reap all the benefits_.)

All she had to do was get close enough to Prince Adrien to ask him to dance. From there she would tell him that Marinette, and he was bound to remember her, was in danger, and she needed his help.   
Then, once Prince Adrien had banished her Mother, or at least thrown her into a cell, ( _at Chloe's request of course_ ) they would heroically rescue Marinette.

Prince Adrien would propose to Marinette, because of course he would.   
Marinette would become a Princess, which by technicality would make her and Sabrina royalty! At even if it didn't, that wouldn't stop Chloe from saying as much.

Now Chloe, being the first born, would inherit the land, mansion and everything her mother owned and tales of her heroics would spread through the world.   
_**Chloe Bourgeois: the Brave noblewoman of Paris!**_  
Men would rush to her from around the world, begging to treat her like a queen.   
Of course, Sabrina would have her pick as well.

Chloe chewed at the inside of her lip, and forced herself out of her daydream.   
Yes, it would be nice if Chloe finally reached her dream of being the single most eligible, rich and wanted bachelorette in the world, but none of it could happen if she didn't save Marinette.

Chloe held back a frown, she was going soft, thinking about saving someone when she could easily be using her unfortunate circumstances to get closer to the prince, but the thought of that alone sent cold shivers down her spine and made her want to vomit.   
Who knew that Marinette would become such a positive influence on her.

* * *

 

Adrien had tied the mask around a belt loop and now it swung softly from his hip as he inspected the rusty hinges of the door.

Marinette watched him intently from her place on the bed, where he had carried her from across the room and swaddled her in the sheets.   
After a minute of quiet thought, he had taken a rod from a the dusty and broken iron bed frame that sat unused in the shadows of the attic.

He had managed to slide the rod behind the hinges and shatter them with a hard push.   
From there it was just a matter of carrying Marinette over the, now fallen, heavy wooden objects that had been barricading her in, and having her direct him to the kitchen so he could find anything to feed her.

Marinette hadn't expected the animosity that he suit brought out, but she wouldn't deny that she quite liked it. He manoeuvred her against his firm chest, changing her position from bridal to hoisting her over his shoulder, allowing him to free his other arm.

The arm holding her was wrapped tightly around her waist, reminiscent of their first night together and the way he had held her close on that chilly rooftop. Despite her frail state, the thought sent warm shivers down Marinettes body, and she pressed her cheek against his back with a soft hum.

The noise reverberated through Adriens body, and only made him more upset. With a low growl he swept his arm along the stone bench top, pots and pans clattered to the floor, glasses broke loudly at his feet, and flour flew softly through the air barely feet away.

Adrien slowly lowered her from her position, carefully placing her down on to the bench. Marinette hissed at the cold stone that pressed through her clothes, but Adrien shushed her with a soft kiss to her forehead.

It was unlike any kiss they had shared. It send her mind swirling back years, through years of neglect and pain to a happier time, to a bakery in the city, a warm embrace from her father, a lullaby sung by her mother.   
The kiss was soft, and warm and smelt of _spices and fresh pastries._

Marinette had never considered the Bourgeois Mansion her home, it was a shell of a home. It was a beautiful mask, and behind that mask was nothing but empty chairs at empty tables. _It was three little girls fighting to find love in a place where love did not grow_.   
But in any moment he touched her, she was home. It didn't matter where she was, he was her home.

As she lay on a cold stone bench, in a cold stone room, in a cold stone mansion, she held tightly to the home she had found.

* * *

 

Marinette tilted her head back against the cool wind, allowing the breeze to invigorate her and seep into her bones. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Chat Noir, a smile on her lips as the Bourgeois mansion faded into the distance.   
She loosened her arms, and allowed one hand to let go, float against the air that pressed towards them, to feel freedom beneath her fingertips.   
Marinette felt invincible, because she had done the impossible.

_She had found love in a place where love did not grow._

And she was happy.

* * *

 

The clicking of Nathalies heels echoed through the corridor around her, fast paced and harsh as she made her way to nowhere in particular.

The sight of Madame Bourgeois and her two daughters angered her more than she could possibly say. Who dares to defy an order of the King!  
Her hands clenched into tight fists, her knuckles white as she stormed through the halls of the palace.

The only thought on her mind now to find Prince Adrien and make sure that he stayed as far away from those women as humanly possible.   
He must be done running around in that silly suit by now.

Adrien thought that nobody knew, that his escapades as Chat Noir would go unnoticed. Nathalie scoffed. When your life's duty is to protect and care for another person, you're bound to notice slight changes in their behaviour.  
Or a mask hidden in their closet.  
Or a silhouette leaping from their window in the dead of the night.

Nathalie cared enough about Prince Adrien to let him have this (whatever this is). His life was strict and dedicated to following rules and itineraries. In a way, Chat Noir was her gift to him. She had the guards patrol moved so that his window was out of site around midnight and after. Nathalie had also had the thorny rose bushes from beneath his window removed and soft shrubs planted in their place.

He thought nobody knew, but Nathalie knew. And she knew how much this meant to him.

Nathalie had now visibly relaxed, and found herself heading towards the young Princes room. She even began to hum as she softened her pace, smiling even.

But she stopped dead in her tracks as the sound of a feminine giggle followed by the unmistakeable sound of Prince Adrien's voice flowed from beneath the empty tailor room.

Nathalie's smile returned as she placed the giggle to the girl, and she took a few steps back and counted, before removing her smile and calling through the halls.

"Adrien! Entrance in five! You better be dressed, your majesty!"

The giggles stopped, and she could faintly hear the rustle of clothing and hushed voices.

"Coming Nathalie!"

* * *

 

Marinette, now alone, stared at the dress in her hands, the fabric was beautiful and more expensive then she had ever seen.   
It would fit her, not as perfectly as a tailored dress, but enough to know that she would look just as beautiful as any other young woman in attendance.

She feared that the mesh of the top would be too risqué, but when she looked at herself in the mirror, it modded to her skin and darkened, appearing almost black.

She felt beautiful, sexy, she felt-

" **Ravishing**. Absolutely ravishing. What a breath of fresh air to see such a beautiful gown, and on such a beautiful young lady."

Marinette spun, the large skirt billowing around her as she turned to face the voice.   
Her eyes widened and she dropped to her knee quickly.

"Your Majesty, it's an honour to meet you. I'm deeply sorry if I'm trespassing." Marinette breathed, her eyes still wide but her face downcast as she tried to stay respectful.

A warm hand was placed under her chin, willing her to rise. She stood, bringing her eyes to face King Gabriel, whose smirk resembled that of one Chat Noir.

"Sweet Marinette, soon this will be your home too. Feel free to explore! You will need to know your way around the palace-"

Marinettes breathing hitched in her throat as Gabriel took her hand softly.

_"-when you are my Queen."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well how bout that, ey?
> 
> Also I tell you what would be SUPER lame, if you know someone liked my characters or story enough to make art or something, psssh LAME.
> 
> As always check me out on tumblr and send me some love because I am very lonely: @metalbendrs


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ball begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very very very short chapter, it's more of a plot filler than anything! 
> 
> Enjoy!!

_**"-when you are my Queen."** _

* * *

Marinette fought against her shaking hands as they urged her to snatch them away and run, but she remained frozen as King Gabriel lifted a limp hand to his lips, and placed a chaste kiss on the back of her palm.

All the while, his steely eyes never left hers. She was trapped under his gaze, paralysed, and when he released her hand it remained in the air for the slightest moment, before it fell to her side.

The corners of his mouth were pulled up into a smirk that read to her as almost sinister, and she shuddered silently once again.

"Your majesty, it is an honour- and I am honoured- and its- I'm- But-" Marinette stammered, her eyes falling back the marble floor as he chuckled lowly.   
"But what? Please don't think it rude of me to say as much, but Miss Cheng you are in no place to refuse such an offer and I highly advise you choose your next words _wisely_."

The Kings gaze was impossibly colder now, and she felt small beneath his stare. Words formed in her mouth and she swallowed them quickly.   
Marinette lifted her head slowly, raking her eyes painstakingly slow from the tips of his toes until she reached his gaze.   
She blinked once, twice, and then she answered.

"And if I say yes?"

Gabriel's smile widened.

* * *

 

The ball was in full swing, music floated through the air and young men and women laughed and danced everywhere you looked.   
The night was young, the air was full of electricity and Adrien was _miserable._

He danced and he smiled as a prince should, but at the end of each song, he would let go of another young woman's hand, and be grabbed by another.   
He couldn't help but sigh as his eyes skittered across the room, searching hopelessly to meet blue.

When he had just finished a dance with a rather sweaty young noble-woman from the very outskirts of the kingdom, he broke away from the crowd to find a drink. ( _and hopefully Marinette, so that he could dance with her all night and never have to dance with another_ ).

He was out of luck, and still couldn't find her, no matter how hard he searched. With a frown Adrien turned back to the buffet. At least the night couldn't get worse.   
But of course it could, because a skirt was brushing his leg, and when he looked for the owner of said skirt, Adrien found himself face to face with one Chloe Bourgeois.

With a forced smile, he asked for her hand to dance, and surprisingly Chloe hesitated, he searched her face in attempts to decrypt her unreadable expression, but before he could decipher what she was thinking, Chloe took his outstretched hand and lead him deep into the depths of the dancing.

"Your highness, I need your help." Chloe whispered into his ear, and Adrien leaned back in confusion.   
When his eyes met her face, and he was finally able to read her expression and with the realisation, Adrien almost tripped over his own feet.

 _Chloe Bourgeois_ was **concerned.**

"It's Marinette- my sister. You met her yesterday. She's-" Chloe's voice hitched, and then trailed off. She stiffened in his arms. When Chloe did not move, Adrien turned his head wildly to see that most everyone around them had done the same.   
To his left, Nathalie stood pale faced and slack jawed, not far away from her Madame Bourgeois shook silently with anger.   
A heavy weight settled in the bottom of his stomach as Adrien turned slowly to face the grand staircase, his gaze following that of the crowd.

There, at the top of the staircase, stood the most beautiful young woman in attendance of his ball.   
_With his fathers arm wrapped soundly around her waist, one hand on her hip, the other holding the hand closest to his side, which was pressed closely against her._

Marinette's mouth was painted red, and was frozen in a stoic expression. Her hair was elegantly curled, and pinned up behind her. Small curls fell and framed her face sweetly.

Her eyes had been painted gold, but all he saw was the watery shine that enveloped them.

**"His Majesty, King Gabriel Agreste, and his betrothed, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."**

Adrien's heart sank in his chest, the heavy weight got heavier and a soft gasp escaped from the crowd around him in the moment before thunderous applause.

* * *

 

Marinette felt sick. She was being paraded around like a show horse, scrutinised and inspected from every angle, and her hip felt as if it could burst into flames at any moment under the Kings firm touch.

Still, she did not move. Things would only worsen if she tried to run.   
As the night wore on, she caught Adrien's eye more. Marinette would pretend that it was her whose arms were wrapped around his neck and Adrien would pretend that it was him who was holding her as his betrothed.

It was a silent game of cat and- _whatever she was_ \- as they stole polite glances and shared secret smiles.

Gabriel only pulled her closer when her gaze strayed too often, and just has she had been not long ago, she was trapped by a tyrant in a room she wanted to escape from.

* * *

 

"Adrien, you've met Marinette." King Gabriel's voice shook the prince, and he spun quickly, posture straightening as he faced his father.   
Marinette smile and curtsied sweetly, his grin widened immediately, but fell just as quickly when he met his fathers stern gaze.

"Yes, I have." He took Marinettes hand in his, and with a bow brought it softly to his lips.   
Marinette did not have to fake the blush that crept to her cheeks, or the smile that bloomed on her lips.   
"And she is as lovely as I remember her."

Gabriel seemed as though he was about to speak when a young servant quickly approached him, and with a kneel handed him a scroll.   
The King frowned deeply, but quickly excused himself.

"Nino! Perfect timing!" Adrien took the servant into a tight embrace and patted his back. The boy, Nino, only smirked in response.

"You looked like you needed some time to yourself-" he turned to face Marinette, bowing quickly before her. "Is this her?" He asked, Adrien nodded grimly.

"You sure know how to pick 'em" Marinette blushed, but didn't dull the smile that appeared on her face.

Adrien handed Marinette a drink, and pulled Nino aside.   
They whispered things between them that Marinette couldn't quite make out, and after a minute of deliberation they broke apart, shook hands, and with a quick wave, Nino was gone.

She furrowed her brows, and Adrien took her hand in response, leading her to the ballroom floor as music began to flow once more.

As they twirled to the sound, Marinette rested her head against Adirens hard chest, breathing in the scent of him. His cologne would linger in her senses for the rest of the night in the same manner that his words would linger in her mind.

_"On Friday evening, we escape."_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I know it's really short but I just wanted to get this out there so we can get into the juicy stuff ok?
> 
> I've fallen in love with Mari's dress TBH. 
> 
> Marinette's dress: es.aliexpress.com/item/Sexy-2015-Occasion-Dresses-High-Neck-Illusion-Long-Sleeve-Sheer-Wine-Red-Burgundy-Taffeta-Evening-Dresses/32543035178.html?spm=2114.43010208.4.42.5gZuxZ
> 
> Chloe's dress: https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTr4zQtej15CNDfESGZBlRlEZV5cDM0y-dFID9B5XCD0Bqu8WWSo9e02ZUN-w
> 
> Sabrina's dress: http://www.luxuryevening.com/p/Black-Purple-A-Line-Long-Beaded-Sweetheart-With-Straps-Evening-Dress_2224/
> 
> Madame Bourgeois' dress: https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT1PWRemQVK40PBq_Xz9VW65JYeMnuuRh2Nxx_ONlHieoxaJVI0U6dg05PZ
> 
> More Sab, Chloz and Madame to come!
> 
> As always my tumblr is @metalbendrs and I love seeing messages from you guys and seeing all the cool stuff you create!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathalie picks freedom and Alya finally enters the playing field

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I haven't updates in so long!  
> Enjoy this nice long chapter!!

**_"On Friday evening, we escape."_ **

* * *

 

In his arms, Adrien could feel Marinette stiffen.

"We can't, Adrien- I can't." She sighed, composure fracturing as he watched tears well again in her glassy eyes.   
On her lower back he rubbed small soothing circles as they swayed to the music.  
For the first time in many years, The Prince didn't really care if people saw, how many hushed rumours circulated about him or his fathers fiancé.

All that mattered was Marinette and her safety.

"Why not Princess, everything's planned and ready to go, it'll go off without a hitch. We even have Nathalie in on it. We can finally be free."  
Adrien bore holes into her skull as he stared into eyes that didn't stare back. Marinettes mind was far away, and he couldn't bring her back.

Her lip only quivered in response, and he didn't press further, only holding her tighter for one last dance.

* * *

 

"May I remind you that although you are my most trusted advisor, I am still your King!"

Gabriel's voice did not shake, it remained cold and distant, but for the first time in many years, anger had boiled in his stomach.   
From the other side of the room Nathalie sneered, her small stature was nothing compared to his; but somehow she still towered over the King.

"How **dare** you Gabriel, she is a child- a child who has been through enough already!"  
Nathalie spun, hunching over the table, knuckles growing white where she grabbed the wood.

"I'm trying to help her Nathalie, not hurt her any further. I can give her a good life here, make her feel loved, make her happy-"

Nathalie spun once again, storming across the room until her chest was pressed against the King, a finger poised accusingly in his face.

"Don't you act like you are doing this for her, Gabriel. You and I both know this about your sick obsession with that woman, and now your **sick** obsession with her daughter!"

Nathalie prodded her finger against the Kings chest and he stumbled back, she pressed on.

"We both know that this has nothing to do with her wellbeing, if it had you would have sent for her yesterday when we found her living in an attic! If this had anything to do with her you would have locked that horrific woman away for abusing the poor child."

Nathalie lifted her finger, before thrusting it back into his chest. Gabriel's eyes widened as he stumbled back once again, tripping over his own feet.

"But you- You are so hell bent on revenge that you will do anything to destroy what remains of Thomas Dupain-Cheng."

Gabriel stepped back again.

"He stole the woman you loved, and you could never understand why she would choose a common baker over a wealthy nobleman."

The King pressed his hands against the cool stone of the wall, feet failing beneath him.

"So you bought your way into the Princesses pants, married her, had a son, killed the kindest King this land had known, seized power and had the woman you loved and her innocent husband killed! And _for what_ your highness?"

Gabriel's back was pressed firmly against the wall. Never in his years had he felt as powerless as he did in this moment, while Nathalie stood over him like a parent to a child, tearing apart his intentions like a wolf to flesh.

"For the sick satisfaction of being the winner, despite the fact that they saved your son. Despite the fact that the little girl you condemned to a life of agony had done nothing to wrong you. Despite all common logic, you tore any hope of a loving life away from her."

Nathalies hand reached to grip his cheeks in her hand, pulling his face down to look her in the eye. Her pupils were blown and there were tears teetering on the edge of her lashes.

"And now you're going to force her to marry you, to bear your children, to make your son watch as you destroy her like you destroyed his own Mother-"

Gabriel grabbed Nathalies hand, harshly ripping it from his face as he pushed her away.   
She stumbled, but did not fall.

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, NATHALIE. YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SPEAK TO ME THIS WAY-"

Nathalie scoffed.

"You're going to force your son to watch as another woman he loves crumbles at your hand. Are you going to make him watch as Marinette takes her own life like his Mother did? Or will you have that passed off as sickness too?"

The King lifted his hand, bringing it down hard across Nathalies face. The sturdy rings he wore slashed into her pale skin, and she clamped a hand to her cheek, powerless to stop the blood that wept through her fingers.

Nathalie brought her eyes to his once more.

"You killed her, just like you will kill this girl. You can not run anymore Gabriel, the blood is on your hands."

Gabriel stiffened once again, his posture cold and defensive, his lip a perfect tight line. But his eyes betrayed his appearance as they watered.

Nathalie smirked.

At his feet she spat, blood and mucus and years of loyalty wasted.

"The people are calling for revolution, Gabriel. Abdicate or certain death at the hands of your people. Marrying a common girl will only hold them off for so long, if at all. You may not make it to see your wedding day-"

Nathalies voice hitched in her throat as Gabriel inspected the hand that had hit her only moments ago. She clasped a hand to her face and now it was her turn to stumble back towards the wooden table, clattering against it as she fell to the floor.   
She shook her head violently, blood smearing on her face as she looked to her King again.

He couldn't have...

* * *

 

The ball had ended little under an hour ago, and while most had left, satisfied with the idea of Prince Adrien announcing his choice for fiancé the next morning, Madame Bourgeois remained, lingering among the servants as they cleaned.

Marinette had barely escaped Madame's claws when Adrien asked her to dance, and she had been more than lucky when more young men did so too.   
But her luck had run out as she now was oblivious to a furious Madame Bourgeois storming towards where she stood.

Adrien had been pulled away by a young servant with flaming hair, and they spoke in quiet confidentiality. The servants eyes had flickered towards her one to many times before Adrien had stiffened and pulled them further away.

In her confusion, she had barely registered the sound of heels clicking sharply against the marble when suddenly she was thrown to the floor and her cheek was pounding in pain.

"You ungrateful brat! How dare you come to the ball. In fact- how did you get here? Break through the window again? And that dress!- Where did you get it? I bet you stole it like the conniving thief you are!"

Tears welled in her eyes and from beneath the ringing of her ears, she could her defiant murmurs. Barely a moment had passed before the sound of another slap rung out across the ballroom, but she couldn't feel any pain, and when her eyes met with the women before her she found Chloe was the one her knees beside her mother, cheek grasped in her hand.

But unlike Marinette, Chloe's eyes were full of fire and she rose, grabbing Sabrina and pulling the younger girl behind her protectively.

Marinette could vaguely hear Adrien's voice yelling something before she was hauled to her feet and escorted quickly away. The soft clicking of heels behind her indicated that Chloe and Sabrina had been too, but to where, she was unsure.

As she was taken up the staircase by a soft arm, a strange sense of déjà-vu came over her as she remembered faint voices behind her door as she faded in and out of consciousness. She imagined Chloe and Sabrina from beyond her barricade, after years of tormenting and degrading her, finally standing up for her. Standing up for what's right.

She shook the preposterous thoughts from her head.

Instead she focused on the arm around her, softly guarding her and leading her through the halls of the palace. The arm was tentative and shyer than the confident grasp of Adrien and Chat, but held a firmness surprised her.   
When she looked to find the owner of said arm she was surprised to find the red haired servant from earlier.

His hair was more disheveled now, his face more stoic and his eyes harder as he lead her into a tea room of some kind.   
He didn't let go of her until she was lounging rather comfortably on the chaise. And then he was gone.

Marinette had thought for a moment that he had left her there and was going to find Adrien, or more likely, King Gabriel, but he quickly returned with a bucket of ice and a cloth bag.

As tentatively as before, he dropped to his knees and filled the bag with ice, and hesitated before pressing it to her face.

Marinette hissed at the cold, but grit her teeth as she waited for the coolness to relive the sting of her slap.   
When the ice had begun to soothe her warm cheek, she relaxed and took the bag from his hand.

"I want to thank you, but I'm afraid I don't know your name, sir." She smiled, turning her body slightly to face him. The tulle of her skirt itched at her legs, but she ignored the uncomfortable feeling and focused on his blue eyes instead.

"I'm no sir, your highness, I'm just a servant." The boy quickly avoided her eyes, looking down at his lap.

"And I'm no princess, just hours ago I was a servant too. Titles mean nothing but what you want them to mean. Now please, what is your name?"

The boys cheeks flushed and he opened his mouth to speak, eyes peeking from beneath his hair.

"Nathanael! Thank you so much for taking care of her- Oh gods Marinette, are you ok? I swear on my life that I will have her thrown into the cellars if it the last thing I do." Adrien ran, dropping to his knees beside Nathanael and placing a hand on hers.

Ignoring Nathanaels presence, he spoke.

"My promise still stands. Say the word Marinette and-" Adrien looked to Nathanael, suddenly wary. He looked to Marinette again, making sure she understood his words. "-And I'll do what I said. I am a man of my word."

Marinette turned to the red headed boy, whose cheeks flushed as he stood quickly, bowing slightly he made his way back towards the door.

"Nathanael-" she called. The young man stopped, turning quickly. Blue met blue and he melted beneath her soft gaze.

"Thank you."

* * *

 

Nino had entered the room not long after Nathanael had left, followed by another young woman who had introduced herself as Alya.

They stood in silence as Adrien explained Marinette's cryptic words from earlier in the night, Nino nodded, but looked confusedly at Marinette.

Alya however, furrowed her brows and looked pointedly at the girl on the chaise.

"Why can't we do it? We've been planning for almost a year! I'm not gonna let **_her_** get in the way. If we're still here when the townspeople invade, we _will_ die. And your dads plan to marry her to make them happy? It won't work, Adrien." Alya sneered, placing a hand on her cocked hip.

Adrien fussed, shaking his head and waving his hands in the air around him.

"I won't leave her here to die Alya, I refuse." Adrien kneeled beside her again, resting his forehead on hers. Marinette brought a hand to his cheek and her eyes fluttered closed as their breathing mingled.

From across the room, Alya and Nino gasped, before Nino clasped a hand to his forehead.

"OF COURSE! She's the reason you've been sneaking out as Chat Noir! How long have you been watching her, Adrien? You could've put our whole plan at risk!" Nino fumed pacing back and forth.

"You've were watching me?" Marinette smiled, pressing her hand firmer into his cheek, tilting her head so that she could brush her lips against his.

"Only for a few years, my lady." He laughed, pressing another kiss to her lips before pulling away.

Alya intervened quickly.

"So what now Adrien? Now that you're in love with her? Do we wait for your dad to marry her and you watch as the girl you're in love with gives you brothers and sisters? I'm not gonna stick around for that-"

Marinette cringed.

"If we take her with us, they will follow us and our heads will be mounted on the palace walls. If we stay, we will be killed by the mobs. Our only chance to survive is to leave without her. There's no way in hell we could kidnap the King's fiancé." Alya spat.

Beside her, Nino nodded sheepishly. Adrien ran a hand through his hair in frustration, letting a groan slip through his lips. Marinette bit her lip, before lifting herself from where she sat.

"We wouldn't just be taking the Kings fiancé-"

All three teens heads snapped towards Marinette as she spoke for the first time since their arrival to the room.   
From beneath her dress emerged a small golden chain hanging from her neck, and on the end a simple golden band.

She sighed heavily, lifting the chain from her neck and slipping the band on to her finger, directly above the brightly jewelled engagement ring.

" _We would be taking the Queen_."

Adrien's eyes grew impossibly wider. The room was dead silent, and the tension could be cut with a knife. But she spoke once more.

"But what if the Queen was to tragically pass away tomorrow night?"

The boys let out a horrified gasp, but Alya only smiled.

"What a perfect tragedy, the whole kingdom will be watching the palaces doors, waiting for the King to speak on his loss-"

Nino turned quickly to Alya, who's smile only widened. Adrien looked hurriedly between the three. Nino caught his eye and completed Alya's sentence. All four smirked wildly.

_**"-And nobody will notice four servants slipping away through the back tunnels."** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah I didn't update bc first week of school and it has been painful. I'm in my first year of VCE so it's been stressful AF. 
> 
> Follow me on tumblr and don't be afraid to message me/tag me in stuff! I love seeing stuff you guys create or think is funny/sad/sinful. @Metalbendrs!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Many strange things are afoot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK I KNOW ITS BEEN FOREVER BUT SCHOOL HAS BEEN KILLING ME ENJOY THIS LONG CHAP

  
**_"-And nobody will notice four servants slipping away through the back tunnels."_ **

* * *

 

In the short time she had known her, Marinette had grown quite fond of Alya Césaire, a tavern girl who earned her way to the castle walls, guided only by her quick wit and extensive knowledge of the kingdom.

She had also grown quite fond of the wicked smirk the girl had seemingly trademarked, or the determined glint in her eyes as Alya stubbornly re-mapped their plan.   
As she watched the girl, Marinette couldn't help but to think that if things had been different, and if fate had dared to have been as kind as Marinette had strived to be, maybe her and Alya could have become the very best of friends.

But if you had the chance to change your fate, would you take the risk?

As Marinette skimmed from Adrien, to Nino and back to Alya, she decided that if she ever had the chance to change her fate, no matter how hard or horrible her life had been, she would never trade the feeling of pure exhilaration she had felt that first night with Chat Noir. She would never change her hardships, because they shaped her. They allowed her to become the person she had been.

If she had the chance to change her parents fate, she decided to leave their story open. Maybe they were smiling upon her, desperately trying give her the happy ending she had always dreamt of.   
Maybe they were at peace.

Oh how she hoped they were at peace.

Marinette's mind looped endlessly through the events of the night as the four sat in comfortable silence, the rain pattering softly against the thick glass of the windows.   
And when the rain seemed to drum harder, Alya would sigh and run the feather of her quill against her temple in a soft sweeping motion.   
It was an odd thing to do, Marinette thought, but it seemed to serve whatever purpose it was intended to do, as moments after Alya would be writing quicker than before.

She had quickly grown fond of Alya, and Marinette didn't feel like letting go of her new found ally any time soon.

* * *

 

Nathalie swallowed the lump in her throat and brought her eyes once more to the man who sat elegantly across from her. With one glance Nathalie could feel her blood boil, her nails digging painfully into her palms, little red moons surely rising to bruise the unblemished skin.

When she spoke, it was through gritted teeth.

"Why?"

His smirk was poisonous, rosy lips tugging at pale cheeks in such a way that Nathalie had once loved, but now logged more than she could possibly imagine.

With sharp eyes poised on her, he stood, an awkward, mechanical movement that paid respects to his clinical nature. He wandered leisurely towards the walls, fingers dancing lightly over furniture.

With a sharp twist, he turned from her and idly tangled his fingers into the deep velvet of the drapes.

"What is the most sought after thing in our world, Nathalie? _Love_? _Fear_? _**Power**_?" His voiced seemed to echo through the small room, the broken man she had seen only minutes ago was long gone, and in his place a terrifying dictator stood.

The lump in her throat was back.

"No, my dear, it's none of these things. It's something much stronger, much more powerful."

Nat tasted blood as she chewed incessantly at her bottom lip, a reminder to herself not to give in to Gabriel's games, but she knew he had her, and she had been playing for hours unknowingly.

" **Pure loyalty**. Pure loyalty provides you with all those things. Your subjects love you, admire you, fear you. You have total control through their trust. Loyalty is the hardest substance to procure, and I had thought I had found it in you. Perhaps I was wrong."

Gabriel shrugged, a nonchalant gesture that only sent chills further down her spine.

The doors behind them open and shut quickly, and although Nathalie didn't move, she was suddenly aware of the fact that her and Gabriel were no longer alone in the room. A shuffle of movement and hushed voices solidified said fact.

She fought a flinch as her eyes flickered to the couple who now shakily inhabited the seating to her right, but warned herself against showing fear. Gabriel could smell fear. Instead she turned to her King once again, and with venom lacing her tongue and coating each word.

"When does it end, Gabriel? When does all this horror and madness end?"

Gabriel shifted, finding his way behind the couple, forcing Nathalie to look closer, anger steamed from Gabriel's eyes and he responded harshly.

"It ends when I win. When I take what is mine and the whole of France bows before their rightful King. It ends when my bride bears my children and all of Paris waits with bated breath for the news. It ends when my son marries a wealthy woman and brings pride to his name. It ends when the world is mine for the taking, and it will end no sooner."

Nathalie shivered, no longer hiding her fear as she looked to the couple, her eyes landing on the small fragile woman, eyes laced with tears and hands gripping tightly to that of her husbands. Natalie's heart fractured further with each passing second.

For once in her life, she had no idea how to fix what was broken.

* * *

 

A gasp escaped Nathanael's lips as his eyes peered through the cracked door, skipping from each of the four people in the room, each of whom had turned towards the sound.

The Kings steel eyes landed on him as he stood frozen in time.   
"You there servant, come here!"

Nathanael ran, ignoring the sound of heavy footsteps and shouting not far behind, he turned quickly into a dead end, knocking quickly at the wallpaper.

When the Kings guards followed the servants footsteps, they found nothing but an empty corridor, and the sound of distant running.

* * *

 

"You don't have to do this, Alya. We can figure out another way."

Nino had repeated this at least nine times in the last half hour, but Alya was the most stubborn person he knew. And she wasn't going to settle for second best.

Pushing past him once again, Nino let out a frustrated groan, jogging to keep up with the girl as she made her way through the bowels of the castle. She didn't reply, instead looking further into the darkness ahead of them, feet faltering for a second before she found her place once again.   
When she took a sharp turn, Nino silently thanked the gods that Alya knew these tunnels like the back of her hand, or else they'd have been lost a long time ago.

He examined her stoic profile, too deep in concentration to notice his eyes on her. His heart skipped a beat when her eyes fluttered shut in thought, prying his eyes away as heat flushed to his cheeks. 'Now isn't the time, Nino!' He scolded himself, turning his head and focusing his eyes on the shadows they cast and the click of their shoes as they walked.

With a final turn, Alya pulled to a stop in front of a stone wall, a sigh of relief trickling from her lips as Nino looked on curiously.

With a seemingly elaborate succession of knocks, the stone began to split, and Nino's mouth gaped. Alya turned back to him, a sympathetic smile plastered to her face as she extended her hand for Nino to take.

"You're wrong Nino, this is the only way."

* * *

 

The fabric of her skirt was soft, and elegantly splayed from her hips, enveloping him as he held her close. He was surrounded by her, both figuratively and literally.

Adrien peppered sweet kisses along her cheek, behind and over the shell of her ear. Marinette relaxed her shoulder, allowed her tense body to uncoil and release, if only for a moment under Adrien's mouth.

He had buried his face into the soft skin of her neck, inhaling the sweet scent. She hummed beneath him, shifting her legs beneath the itchy tulle, Marinette pushed herself from where she lay, and turned to face him.

Beneath her, the dress twisted uncomfortably, but she couldn't care less as she pressed her hands against his broad chest, tangling her legs between his. He pressed a kiss to her temple. There were so many things he wanted to say, but words were abandoning him, so he just kept kissing her.

A kiss to the extra sensitive area just beneath her earlobe had earned a soft whimper from her, and it had sent Adrien straight back to that first night with her, on a Parisian rooftop and he just couldn't control himself. She was _intoxicating_.

Desperate to elicit another of those sweet whimpers, he bit softly on the flesh, a very Chat like mannerism that seemed strange coming from the regal young man.

Beneath him she whimpered, but this one was different. Breathy and dark and oh so poisonous.

He blew soft air onto the small patch of red before continuing, suckling lightly on the mark as she writhed beneath him. He bit harder and Marinette **_moaned_**.

Suddenly this room was too tiny, and her clothes too constricting and his jacket was far too hot and Adrien needed out.

Lifting from the chaise ( _not without protest from Marinette_ ), Adrien scooped the smaller girl up, the fullness of her skirt suddenly much more of a nuisance to him.

Opening the doors with his foot, he peeked from he threshold before beginning the short jog to his room. ( _He made a mental note to thank Nathanael for choosing the drawing room closest to his room, even if it was unintentional_.)

Right now, Adrien was primal, all wild eyes and messy hair. He had never looked more like the leather clad hero who had captured her heart mere days ago, and Marinette loved it.

When they reached the doors, he kicked them open once more, the servant women scurrying about stiffened in fright, eyes wide at the side of the Kings fiancé red faced and near panting in the Princes arms.

Prince Adrien had always been soft spoken and polite, especially towards the women who had practically raised him, and these women were no exception.

But Adrien wasn't speaking, _Chat Noir_ was.

"OUT-"

The women scurried, quickly collecting things they had dropped and clothes they were yet to fold, and they weren't moving quick enough.

"- _ **NOW**_!"

Within an instant, the women were gone, the only remnant of them were the traces of cleaning products and slightly messy bedsheets.

He placed her soundly on his large bed, her small body sinking in to the softness.  
She looked ethereal, like a goddess.

And the look in her eyes looked like she wanted to eat him alive.   
( _Not that he would mind_.)

Marinette had been lost in the moment, but had since sobeyed herself as she looked up at Adrien.   
Above her, he looked down on her with such adoration in his eyes she wanted to cry at the very sight.

She began to doubt, a million thoughts of how she didn't deserve someone like him, if she really wanted this, if he really wanted this.   
She was about to turn away, excuse herself.

Then a very Chat Noir smirk was tugging at his cheeks and, although she found herself saying this much too often, she had _never_ been more sure of _anything_ in her entire life.

* * *

 

The scent was unholy, and Nino's eyes watered as he gagged at the pungent smell, but Alya seemed not to notice as she braved the pitch blackness of the corridor.

Nino could barely make out the shape of her figure, had she not been clasping his hand tightly, he would have questioned if she was really there at all.

 _'Maybe we should just turn around, this was a terrible idea!'_ Nino's mind raced as he desperately looked around, searching for anything he could see, but all he could see was the darkness that surrounded them.

Alya stopped short, covering her eyes with her forearm as the bright light of a torch suddenly seared through the darkness, Nino mimicked the movement, eyes adjusting quickly to the sight.

The torch was suspended mid air, it's flame flickering despite the lack of air flow.

Alya reached out, Palm outstretched to take the torch in her grasp. Her fingers only inches away when it floated away, stopping after a moment.

Alya's eyes met Nino's, his face the perfect mirror of the shocked expression that surely graced her features.

With tentative steps, they followed the magical light as it floated through the long, winding corridor. After a moment, hushed voices could be heard, seemingly shushing each other as Alya and Nino grew closer to their destination.

With a single flicker, the torch speed quickly through the end of the path, Alya and Nino rushing to catch up as it turned a glowing corner, throwing them into darkness as they hurried towards the glow.

Alya turned first, a gasp escaping her lips as Nino fought to catch up, his own gasp following shortly.

An elaborate lair, candles hung suspended in the air, and ingredients floated from shelves into the bubbling cauldron that stood proudly in the middle of the room.

A book flew soundly from the shelf behind Nino's shoulders and he followed its path with his eyes as it landed in someone's small hands.

With a smile, the woman's large, kind eyes fell upon the two visitors, her round rouged cheeks tugged tightly into a wide inviting smile.

"I knew you would come! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!" She cheered, letting go of the book, which only floated where she had held it, and rushing to envelop them in a warm, yet awkward, hug.

"Let them go Tikki, they're probably lost." A deeper voice rang from above, a dark skinned man floated smoothly down the stairs at the back of their hideout, his eyes sharp and vigilant as he observed the two teens.

"No Plagg! They're the ones! I just know it!" She smiled, wrapping her arms around Alya and Nino, who stiffened under her touch.

The man, Plagg, rolled his eyes, snapping his fingers and bringing a small vial floating his way, before turning on his heel and snagging Tikki's book from where it was suspended.

"Don't worry about him, he's just grouchy because I was right!" Tikki smiled, leading them further in.

"W-what are you right about?" Nino stuttered, eyes avoiding the woman's gaze.

Tikki waltzing from her position to where Plagg stood with the book, grasping it from between his long fingers and carrying it back over towards the teens.

"The prophecy!" Tikki squealed, turning the book to show the teens a page, written in a language they didn't understand, but the picture spoke a thousand words.

"That's Adrien, and Marinette, and you- and me!" Alya cheered, albeit confusedly.

Tikki clapped excitedly, twirling from the floor and into the air as she laughed happily.

"1000 years and they're finally here! Plagg are you not excited?" Tikki yelled, floating towards the man, who swatted her away.

"They need to win first, and they're just kids, Tikki." He growled, pulling vials from shelves with a point of his manicured finger.

"You forget Plagg, that so were we!" Tikki prodded, the man next to her stiffening as he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

"Okay Tikki, you're right. Lets just help them and get it out of the way already. I'm already tired and we haven't even begun."

Tikki cheered again, and the teens shared a glance before Tikki beckoned them closer.

"We have a lot of work to do, I hope you're ready!" Plagg jeered playfully.

Nino opened his mouth to reply, but Alya beat him to it, her lips pulled into a smirk as she looked on.

_**"I was born ready."** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BITCH U THOUGHT TIKKI AND PLAGG DIDNT EXSIST HERE U WERE DEAD ASS WRONG  
> Sorry for my disappearance, I was pulling an Adrien's mom.   
> Anyway this chapter is not proof read cause I wanted to just get it out already, so if you see a mistake hmu.   
> As always: @metalbendrs on tumblr or you can now check out my sweet ass Twitter: @sabrinathoughts  
> Love you guys!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote, edited and beta'd here at 3am, then my browser crashed and I lost it all.

**_"I was born ready."_ **

* * *

 

Alya sat on one of the many mismatched cushions, Nino's shoulders brushing lightly against hers as he watched Tikki and Plagg with suspicious eyes.  
In Alya's mind, her thoughts ran faster than the kingdoms finest horses ever could.

Prophecies were myths, legends, wives tales, nothing but ghost stories. Yet, here she sat; a living, breathing prophecy.   
_A ghost story all her own._

Tikki had handed her a warm mug, gentle hands ghosting over Alya's cold fingers, warmth seeping from the hot liquid into her bones. She sighed and took a sip, Nino mimicking her actions.

With an ever present smile, Tikki floated, as she always seemed too, to the ground in front of them. "I'm sure you have a few questions," her voice was softer now, calmer than it had been.

Alya scoffed, peering at the woman from the rim of her mug. "I have more than a few." She muttered, eyes never leaving the older woman.

Tikki only laughed, placing her own mug in the air beside her, the air holding the ceramic in place as if an invisible shelf had appeared.   
( _For all they knew, one could have_.)

Nino shifted uncomfortably, eyes roaming the spacious room before landing on Tikki. Once again he uncrossed and recrossed his legs, a nervous habit.

Tikki rested a palm on Nino's knee, halting his movement. She looked from him to Alya before standing again, plucking her mug from the air and sashaying across the room.

From over her shoulder she cast them a beaming smile, Plagg finding his way to her side as he handed her a book, she took it wordlessly, eyes glued to the two sitting quietly.

"All in due time, all in due time."

* * *

 

Moonlight filtered through the open window and Adrien **glowed**.

His golden hair caught the light as his breaths rocked his body slowly, shadows of his long lashes cast softly on his cheeks as he peered at her through half lidded eyes.

The room smelt of his cologne and of him in general, musky and deep like the wooden oak of the forest, yet; somehow, fresh and full of life like the leaves that grew there.

Beneath the silk sheets, his foot drew soothing paths against her own bare calf, his breath hot as it met hers in the free air between them.

Marinette sighed, her eyes fluttering closed as he drew her body closer to him, heat radiating from his skin like fire as he curled his naked body around hers, peppering feather light kisses to the top of her head, which now lay against his broad chest.

A moment later, his breathing steadied, and only then did she open her eyes to look at him once more.

He was calmer than she had ever seen him and she found comfort in his relaxed state, allowing herself to tangle her body with his once again.   
She could feel herself drifting soundly into sleep, her eyes heavy and body tired. Marinette suddenly was jolted awake, gasping for breath. She hadn't even thought that a moment had passed, but as she looked to the morning light peering into the room, she realised she had been asleep for hours.

Her eyelids dropped again, _a few more moments wouldn't matter_.

She began to drift off again but was woken just as violently, her eyes flew open this time, desperately trying to focus against the morning light.

A young housemaid stood, gently shaking her arm, blue eyes blown wide with concern and short blonde hair stuck to her forehead with sweat.

"Mademoiselle you need to wake!" The girl hissed, her voice barely a whisper.

Marinette nodded and began to stand, removing herself from Adrien's gasp. She had almost reached her feet when she looked to the girl and grasped for the sheets of the bed, only realising too late that she was nude.

The girl only giggled, hurriedly passing Marinette clothes from a pile at the girls feet that MArinette hadn't seen.

"Don't worry Mademoiselle, I've dealt with a **lot** worse. My main concern is keeping you safe." The girl winked, turning away so that Marinette could change.

The nightclothes were baggy, and smelt faintly of lavender and musk, but she was glad to be wearing clean clothes at all, and ones of such fine quality too.

After the rustling of clothing had stopped, the girl turned to face her with a small smile, motioning for her to stay quiet and follow her.   
Quickly she led Marinette out from Adrien's room and into the cold halls of the palace.

Mari hissed at the feeling of freezing marble beneath her feet, but bit her lip to quiet herself before following the girl through a series of intricate turns.

"I'm Rose." the girl whispered once they had reached carpeted halls, the interior subtly less showy, and somewhat more homely. ( _As homely as a palace could get, that is_.)  
"I covered for you last night, Mademoiselle."

Marinette frowned, her pace faltering before she fell back in step with the the shorter girl. " **Please** , call me Marinette. And you did _what_ now?"

Rose laughed quietly, pushing open a large door and allowing Marinette to step inside, although her eyes were fixed on Rose, awaiting her answer.

" _Well_ after the ball, the King heard of Madame Bourgeois' outburst and he came looking for you. We knew that we couldn't let him take you back to his _boudoir_ , so I told him that you were sick, asleep, and that **I** would care for you." Rose grinned, fiddling with the sheets on the rather large bed.

"If I'd known that you were busy boning his son, I might've thought twice about lying to the King, it's treason after all." Rose winked again, a laugh floating through the air and hitting Marinette square in the heart, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"I- we- we d- didn't- I- uh- **bone**! I mean- we j- we just-" Marinette looked dumbly at Rose, whose smile only widened. Marinette sighed, laughing quietly as she blushed again.

" _Thank you Rose_."

* * *

 

The sound of fast approaching feet scared Alya so much that she leapt from her place on the fluffy couch and at least a foot into the air.

Nino was not much better, his 3rd cup of _whatever-they-were-drinking_ spilled across his chest and stomach as he assumed a defensive stance, the cushion from his seat on the floor held wildly in his hand.

Plagg chuckled heartily, throwing another vial of something into the bubbling caldron, before calling to Tikki, who frowned a the noise.

"He shouldn't be back so soon." They said in perfect synchronisation, eyes locking on to each other; Tikki's voice laced with concern, Plagg's with amusement.

Plagg nodded towards Alya and Nino, who stood baffled across from them, Tikki lightened slightly, her smile returning momentarily, before disappearing once again.

Like a bolt of lightning in the sky, a bolt of something red burst into the room, Tikki and Plagg both flinched, but neither moved.

Nino, however, screamed. Leaping from where he stood, to cling to Alya's side, who also screamed and flung herself to Nino. In this process they knocked heads, and Nino found himself unconscious on the floor.

With this, the tension in the room broke, and the red blur, Tikki **and** Plagg all burst into laughter at the sight of Nino's limp body.

It only took a click of Tikki's fingers and Nino was up and running again, no recollection of what had happened only moments ago. Alya decided to let him stay clueless, the pain in her head and the red blur more concerning than Nino's confusion.

The red blur aprepared to be the servant boy she had spoken to last night when he had helped Marinette, she had also seen him in the halls once before, but never before or again. She remembered thinking at the time about how _strange_ that was, but only now did she begin to realise why, her head spinning with pain and confusion.

"Nathanael, you're back early, is something wrong?" Tikki probed, hand extending towards the panting boy before drawing away.

He nodded desperately, eyes filled with tears. "We've _lost_ , Tikki. After all this time, all this work! He **_beat_** us." Nathanael cursed softly, strolling towards a floating book and pulling it from the air.

Tikki looked helplessly towards Plagg, who only shrugged.

"Nathanael, what do you _mean_? We still have a few days, a week at tops with the help of some magic but we are _still_ in the game, we're _still_ playing and we're _going_ to win-" Tikki found herself cut off by Nathanael, who looked angrily at Alya and Nino.

"Did you two **_know_**?" He asked, back straightening as he dropped the book in his hand in the same fashion that Tikki and Plagg did, except his book clattered to the floor in a heap.

Alya frowned, a hand on her hip as her eyes grew darker looking at Nathanael. "Did we _**know**_ what?!" She growled through gritted teeth.

Nathanael weakly ran a hand through his hair, dropping to the floor. A large pillow flew beneath his rear a second before it hit the ground, Tikki's finger extended as she sent him a second pillow in a routine they had become accustomed too.

Nathanael took the second pillow from the air and pressed it against his face, releasing a yell of anger before throwing it aside. "Did you _**know**_ that he married her tonight? Before the ball even began? Before he even announced her as his betrothed?-"  
Nathanael sobbed quietly. "- _Before we could save everyone_?!"

Tikki gasped and looked to Plagg sadly, who stood silently against the book case.

"We lost-" Plagg muttered, "-we're doomed."

Nino looked guiltily towards Alya, who looked guiltily towards the concrete. They all stood like that for a moment, Plagg's words suspended in the air like one of their many books.

Alya gasped as she recalls what Marinette had told her, the silence broken as four heads all snapped to look at her.   
"Marinette never said her vows-" she choked, running towards the book that Nathanael had dropped, desperately flicking through the pages of the prophecy.

"- _MARINETTE NEVER SAID HER VOWS_. HER MARRIAGE ISN'T VALID IN THE PROPHECY-"

Plagg chuckled.

_**"Whaddya know, looks like we're back in the game once and for all."** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NATHANAEL PLS CHILL
> 
> Follow me for updates and other shenanigans:  
> @Metalbendrs | Tumblr  
> @Sabrinathoughts | Twitter
> 
> // Quick shoutout to Cambie bc I see you everywhere supporting writers in this fandom and you've been supporting this trash since the beginning thank you ok ily.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *anything could happen plays in distance*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG JUST TAKE IT
> 
> ((also I left a reference to one of my fave songs which is Story of my Life and if you catch it let me know ;) ))

**_"Whaddya know, looks like we're back in the game once and for all."_ **

* * *

 

The room was deadly silent, and Chloe found herself thinking it was much too large for just one girl.   
She scoffed to herself, a sad, throaty noise that didn't belong to her dolled up face.

If yesterday's Chloe could've heard what she was thinking now, she would have slapped herself.

But still, she couldn't help but run her fingers along the silky sheets and wish that Sabrina was snoring in the bed next to her, laughing while she powdered her face, or even just brushing her hair while they talked about their ideal Prince Charming.

Chloe's Prince Charming had been the same since she was 6, Prince Adrien of course.   
And Sabrina? Well she preferred Princesses.

And now here she was, her lifelong dream only inches away, she could lean forward and snatch it in her claws and never look back. She could be a Princess, she could be rich and beautiful and loved.

Chloe stalled her hands, pulling the sheets closer to her body. Everything she had ever dreamt of was so close, but now, _she didn't want it._

She looked to her face in the vanity mirror across the guest bedroom, a room the King had allowed her to stay in for all her trouble. Her makeup was an echo of what it had been the night before, it was smudged and smeared on her face wildly. Her skilfully painted lips were scattered in a thousand kisses along her pillowcase. Her carefully rouged cheeks were flustered and much too red.

Chloe stood, feet padding against the soft carpet as she strode to the vanity, and like a queen to her throne, she sat.

Beneath layers of blue and black shadows lay puffy red eyes, and beneath the layers of makeup lay Chloe Bourgeois.   
She took a soft cloth from where it lay next to the bowl of cool water, and began to wipe away the paint that remained on her face.

Chloe couldn't remember the last time she had seen herself completely without makeup, as she had always washed her face and had Sabrina begin her makeup without the help of a mirror.  
The sad girl who looked back at her in the mirror seemed to mimic her actions, but Chloe wasn't sure it was truly her.   
She looked like any other girl she had seen in town.

She looked normal.

From a small vanity in a guest room somewhere inside the palace, hot tears mixed with cool water, and a real smile graced the face of Chloe Bourgeois for the first time in years.

Chloe leapt from the vanity, not bothering to apply any stupid makeup, brush her stupid blonde hair or change her stupid clothes, and skidded from the room with great force and speed, laughter bubbling through the halls for the first time in many years.

The room was too big, and Chloe was much too lonely.

" _SABRINAAAA!_ "

* * *

Nathalie had not slept, she couldn't _possibly_ have.

That servant boy had seen **them** , and Nathalie had seen the way he watched **Marinette**.

There was no way he wouldn't make the connection, she was relying on him too do as much.   
In fact, Nathalie had been relying on him for a _very_ long time, the boy who snuck between walls and who's eyes followed her through the paintings of Gabriel's throne room.   
Nathalie had relied on him to appear when she left the door open just a little, and he had, so now she relied on him to make the connection.

She needed him to tell Marinette that her parents aren't dead.   
Her entire plan rested on that red-headed boys shoulders.

With a sigh, Nathalie ran a hand through her hair, releasing it from its tight bun, before tying it again, impatiently pacing through her room, for lack of a better term.   
You see, Nathalie refused to call this room her home, it was not a bedroom, it was a barely a room at all, it was four could walls, a desk and a bed.   
This room had never felt like home to her.

_This palace would never be her home._

As if by fate, the moment Nathalie's tired mind had began to wander, and her eyelids felt heavy for the first time in days, there was three quick raps at her door, and after a moments silence, three more.   
Nathalie looked to the wood, eyes sharpening, back straightening.

Nathalie had not slept, she couldn't _possibly_ have.

"Fresh towels Madame?" A soft, raspy voice came from outside the door.

Nathalie's lip quirked upwards involuntarily. "Enter." Nathalie called, turning her back to the door, internally clambering to regain her composure.

She heard the door open and shut, but whoever had entered was silent, and she wasn't sure if they had entered at all.   
Nathalie turned her head to look.

She was taken aback at the sight of the girl, whose long, black hair fell straight as a pin down her back, and the odd clump of hair that covered one of the girls eyes was partially purple. It was unnatural, it was distracting it was-

" _Witchcraft_ " Nathalie whispered, turning to face the girl completely, who only smirked and raised the towels in her hands.

" _No_ , just crushed violets and gels. Would you like fresh towels or _not_ Madame?" The girls voice was deep, questioning, rebellious.

Nathalie twisted her fingers unconsciously behind her back. "Are the towels _white_?" Nathalie spoke, the uncertainty in her voice evident. She quickly cleared her throat and looked back to the girl, who placed the towels on the floor beside her and extended her hand.

"I'm _Juleka_ , it's a pleasure to meet you Nathalie, everyone is _very_ excited that you contacted us." With a genuine smile, the teen strode towards the chair that sat idly behind Nathalie's desk and sat, placing her feet high up on the desk and looking coolly to Nathalie, who was frozen in place.

"Now you wanna keep takin' towels, or wanna talk about overthrowing the King?"

Nathalie began to step forward, an uneasy frown on her face.

"You're only a child, Juleka, no older than the prince-" Nathalie couldn't help it, concern was laced through her voice, her loyalty to the rebellion wavering slightly.

Juleka's lips pulled into a thin smile. "Yes but children are running this palace, are they not? How many children have visited your chambers to clean while you're out on business? How many of those children clean the vaults? _**The Kings chambers**_?" Juleka trailed off, suddenly more interested with the jewellery on her hands, her point had been made and it was crystal clear.

Nathalie nodded, taking a seat across from Juleka, hands busying themselves with the hem of her shirt. Suddenly feeling very small, a feeling she had not felt since she was a child in palace training, and with this she stiffened, raising her eyes to the teen, gaze strong.   
_(Just like she had always been taught to do, Gabriel often encouraged her to use her icy stare to her advantage, she could never find it in her heart to do as much)_

"You have an army inside the walls, ready to fight, why do you still wait? What is stopping you from giving the orders and doing it now?" Nathalie glowered, she had no time for silly childish games, and that seemed to be exactly what this girl was playing.

The silence grew tense, Juleka's irritation grew in the space between them.

_Three raps at the door. Three more._

"Because, _Madame_ , they do not follow my orders-" Juleka spat.

The small, kind housemaid who tended to Nathalie's room entered quietly, motioning for someone to follow.

That someone was Marinette, and Nathalie furrowed her brows in confusion, eyes snapping to Juleka.

"-they follow _hers_." Juleka motioned to the Marinette, whose eyes widened at the same moment as Nathalie's, and for a second they shared a confused glance.

Rose spoke quietly, a soft reassuring hand on Marinette's arm.

"It is the prophecy, after all."

* * *

 

The halls in this wing were bare, as they had been for years. Great golden frames adorned the walls, but inside them was nothing but dust. A fractured mirror sat idly against an abandoned doorframe, the hinges of which had rusted.

Adrien stopped to peer into the mirror, his eyes split a thousand times between the cracks. Although he could see his reflection, he knew that the glass was empty. These halls were void of life.

_He kept walking._

The rooms here were usually forbidden to explore, not even a housemaid had set foot in one since the days following his mother passing, and Adrien knew better than to wander where he was not allowed, especially while a crown rested upon his head, and not ears of black leather.

But yet, he couldn't help but be drawn closer to these halls, as he supposed his mother once might have been.

When he had woken, Marinette was gone, and he wanted nothing more than to search for her, but as he had peered through the corridors of the palace, he had found it increasingly hard to find her, so he followed his gut and now-

 _ **Here he was.**_

In the abandoned, decrepit halls of his Mother's home.

She had grown up here, lived here, breathed here, etched into these walls were stories of her life, moments he couldn't fathom or explain. And when she died, so had these halls.

Adrien hadn't realised he was still walking until he reached the end of the main corridor, his steps slowing as something beneath him almost rumbled.

He had visited these halls before, and they were always the same, but for the first time in years, it seemed as if the slow and steady heartbeat of the halls was revived, growing louder between the layers of wood and wallpaper.

For the first time since his mother had died, these halls held life, and Adrien couldn't shake the feeling that this had something to do with Marinette.

He leaned back against the junction of the two walls, and didn't question the lack of cobwebs and general dust in comparison to the rest of the halls, he didn't question anything because the moment he had leaned on the wall, he felt as if he had fallen through it, and it wasn't until a sturdy pair of arms were clamped around his mouth and waist did he realise that the wall itself had opened and he was now being lead away through the darkness.

"Don't you worry, kid. I'm gonna take good care of ya'" the figure chuckled as they reached a discarded lantern, releasing him from their grip.

Adrien flailed, spinning quickly to look at his captor, only to be met with another hand on his shoulder. Adrien spun again, the back of his hand colliding with something soft, something that whined " _whatthehellman_ ".

" _ **NINO**_?" Adrien cried, extending a hand to help his freshly-slapped friend from the floor.

"Yeah- and this is Plagg-" Nino gestured, rubbing his cheek softly.

Adrien turned to meet the taller man with a suspicious gaze, leathery ears and too-green eyes seemed to snap Adrien from his stupor.

"You didn't think Nino came up with 'Chat Noir' by himself, _now did ya'_?" The man sneered playfully.

Adrien looked from Nino to Plagg once, and a second time for dramatic effect. Nino only shrugged.

_**"This magic stuff, dude, I still don't get it."** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Laganja voice* oH YALL WANTED A TWIST EY? COME ON ADDITIONAL CHARACTERS, LETS GET SICKENING. 
> 
> Yeah so plot reveals are happening, not gonna lie, this story will probably be finished in a few weeks. 
> 
> BUT GOOD NEWS:  
> I'm already planning a second story in this 'series' which is a series of altered fairy tales/well known stories, and this Mulan AU seems like it might happen!
> 
> As always:  
> @Metalbendrs on Tumblr  
> @Sabrinathoughts and @Moldawgz on Twitter  
> Follow me, send me messages, show me funny shit, be my friend!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the last midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this is my longest chapter yet. 2.5k words wth.

**_"This magic stuff, dude, I still don't get it."_ **

* * *

 

"So let me get this straight..." Adrien started, the rocking chair he was sat in creaked to life with the movement and filled the silent room.

From their positions surrounding him, all 4 patrons of the room leaned forward hopefully, Nino resting his forearms against his thighs, while Plagg splayed his fingers from where they rested pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Nino dreamt of-" Adrien looked to Plagg, who's dark skin glistened with sweat and frustration, and pointed a shaky finger, "- _you_? And you turned out to be real?"

Alya's groan cut him off as she flopped against the pillows on the ground, the others letting out their own small groans and sighs as Adrien sat obliviously, and very confused, in the centre of the room.

"We're dead- _dead_! He's an idiot, the prophecy was wrong!" Plagg threw his head into his hands, heavy boots clattering against the floor as he stormed away, pulling vials from the air before they could clatter to the ground and tossing them angrily into the cauldron.

Tikki looked sympathetically to the boy before she scattered off to where Plagg was stood. Her hand was rubbing encouraging circles into the mans lower back, a detail Adrien was unsure of why he picked up on. Their rushed whispers grew slightly louder and Tikki's hand ceased its movement, at that Plagg's voice lowered again and as quickly as they had stormed away, they were back.

"I'm gonna give you one last chance kid, but I'm not explaining it again, so Tikki will." Plagg rolled his eyes as Tikki joined him where he stood, sending the man a reassuring smile before lowering herself to the ground in front of Adrien's feet.

"Plagg and I are not like you, Prince Adrien, we are not like _any_ of you, we are older than you could ever imagine. We exist _outside_ of time itself, we've seen many universes, many versions of you and Marinette-" Tikki placed a soft hand on Adrien's knee, who was now wide eyed and staring back at the woman.

"Great here she goes with _this_ again" Plagg mumbled, but was not met with the laughter he was expecting, but with ignorance as all three teens now sat in front of Tikki, entranced by her story.

"-You were not always named Adrien, once you were Felix, and before that you were Jean, and many others before that, but it was always _you_ , much the same it was always Marinette." Tikki turned to Plagg with watery eyes, her smile wider now as Plagg joined her on the floor, stiffer and less graceful, but still there.

"You were never apart for long once you met, drawn to each other, tied to each other with those pesky red strings of fate. Do you feel it Adrien? The world pulling you towards her?"

He nodded.

"But in every universe there is always a threat, and it is always the same man-"

"My father?" Adrien interrupted, hands curled into tight fists, Alya placed her hand softly on his forearm, attempting to smooth the tight muscles.

Tikki nodded solemnly. "For as long as we have been in existence, so has he, appearing in every version of reality, and we've always fought against him for the greater good."

"Sometimes that means to free the people he has enslaved, or to save a the world from allowing him too much power. In this reality it is saving the kingdom and those in it, and fulfilling our duty, the _prophecy_." Plagg added, his voice lacking its usual sass, replaced with sincerity.

"You've always taken it differently, sometimes it's easier for you two to fall into your roles, sometimes you've fought against it until your dying breath, but you have always worked together, you're a team." Tikki smiled, her eyes connected with Plaggs, rather than Adriens.

" _Soulmates_." Alya smiled, looking from Adrien to Nino with a sparkling grin.

"Yes. Soulmates. As are you and Nino, except you two are a lot easier to pair up than Adrien and Mari, they're not always as perceptive as they were this time." Plagg snorted, Alya and Nino stiffening in their places before shuffling away from each other quietly.

"As I said, you have always reacted _differently_ , so when Plagg tried to plant his voice as a sort of consciousness in your head, which is something I'll admit we've never tried before-" Tikki rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.

"Hey, gotta spice it up somehow, the same thing gets boring after the first thousand times." Plagg remarked, playfully bumping his shoulder into Tikki's.

"Marinette took it well and I was able to steer her on the right path... However when a Chat is not being controlled by Plagg it throws things out of balance and I was unable to keep my hold on Marinette." Tikki shrugged, smile lessening for only a moment.

"So you implanted yourself into **Nino's** brain to get **him** to get **me** to be **Chat Noir**?" Adrien spoke reluctantly, but was met with cries of success from the group.

"Bad choice of words but it was good enough kiddo!" Plagg chuckled, standing to playfully punch him in the shoulder.

"So now all we have to do is find Marinette and get her to become Ladybug and we can save this bad boy from utter chaos!" Nino cheered.

Tikki stood awkwardly, crossing her arms softly "well... _about that-_ "

* * *

 

The doors to the common room were thrown open with such force that the hinges on the left side buckled under its own weight and collapsed sadly onto the floor in a flurry of dust and noise.

It was with this sudden intrusion that Sabrina leapt from where she sat, eyes wide and hand clamped over her mouth to hold back a scream.

From beyond a light filled hallway of the palace Chloe emerged, the toothy grin Sabrina had seen only once before plastered on her face, a clean, bare face in which Chloe had never dared to wear beyond the confines of their shared bedroom. The silken pyjamas she wore were crinkled and ill fitted and Sabrina could do not much else besides _stare_ at her sister with awe.

" **C-Chloe**? Are you ok?" Sabrina twisted her fingers nervously, tentatively stepping towards her sister, who's face was flushed as she panted for breath. "You- you're not wearing any makeup?"

Chloe didn't answer, she didn't have too, Sabrina knew the answer, instead she surged forward and collected her younger sister in her arms, rocking dangerously as they almost tumbled, laughter bubbling from between them.

Sabrina had never been hugged so tightly since before her father passed away, as her and Chloe were only half sisters, her father had been a royal guard and Chloe's was never mentioned. Mother had been a politician for a short while, before raising them.

_It felt good._

She tucked her face into the crook of Chloe's neck, enjoying the out of character moment for the usually snobbish girl. Chloe smelt the same as she always had, always reeking of expensive and exotic perfume, but it was fainter, lighter, much like the Chloe who was holding her now.

Her shoulder became increasingly warm, and Sabrina realised that soft tears were falling onto her dress, soaked through the fabric and brushing her skin. _Chloe was crying_.

"I'm _wicked_ , Sabrina. We're _wicked_ , _evil_ people!" She sobbed, clutching the smaller redhead closer. "It's our fault that Marinette has to marry him, if we had only been kinder, maybe things would have been different, maybe Marinette would be here with us and all would be right"

Sabrina supposed it was so, and her actions burnt her heart, but mother had always told them to remember one thing in their lives, she had engraved it into their bones.

"It does not do one well to dwell on the past, Chloe." She whispered into her shoulder, and beneath her arms she felt Chloe nod, stiffen and then relax.

When they finally pulled apart, Chloe looked at her sister, unsure of what exactly to say. Chloe was not one to feel powerless or tongue tied, but the thought of not being able to help Marinette left her speechless. And then in the way only Sabrina seemed to be able to, she spoke the words Chloe had been searching for.

"We could use our wickedness for good, couldn't we?"

* * *

 

He had meant to tell them, he really had, but he wasn't quite sure that he had believed what he saw. Not until now.

Nathanael pushed a trolley through the hall, nodding politely at a woman as she dusted the top of a rather morbid portrait of the Prince and the King. As he made his way to his destination, Nathanael had time to think about the moments in his life, all that had led to these few days.

Raised in an orphanage in the south of France, Nathanael had learnt very early on how to care for himself and his friends, but as he grew older and his list of chores grew longer, he couldn't help but think that he was meant for something more, for a greatness he couldn't enunciate.

So when the news of the lost and shortly found Prince surfaced in his orphanage, Nathanael's mind began to wander to some strange place, memories just out of reach.   
He had lived his life like this, not entirely knowing, feeling as if there was always something left unsaid, unheard, unseen.

Whispers of sorcerers and witchcraft were nothing new to him, many were wives tales used to keep the children from wandering too far, but when rumours of a sorceress who could heal any ailment made their way to his ears, Nathanael knew that this was the something more he had been searching for.

She could cure his broken memories once and for all and maybe he could find the part of him that seemed to be missing.

He never thought that Tikki would be the part of him that seemed to be missing.

Nathanael had run away, and she had taken him under her wing, cared for him, travelled with him as they searched for something Tikki never exactly revealed. They followed rumours through the countryside until they found what they had been searching for.

Plagg had been drunker than Tikki had ever seen him, _or so she said_.

They didn't search anymore, they had found Plagg and now Nath thought that they would go and settle down, live as normal of a life as possible for all powerful sorcerers.

When they reached Paris, and the walls of the palace loomed in the distance, Tikki finally taught him of the prophecy and his place in it.

And so they spent their years planning, plotting, Nathanael trained, learnt the secrets of the castle, and finally when the time was right, they put their plan into action.

And here was the fruit of their labour, all rolled up into one small, freckled girl, who he was following from a safe distance.

As she and the blonde girl turned into a room, he slowed his pace, watching her smile softly down at the blonde maid. He curled his fists tighter around the trolley and continued, cleaning idly outside the door, listening.

Tikki warned him that it would happen, and he had denied it for as long as she had been telling him. He said he would not fall in love with her, she was _**his**_ soulmate, not Nathanael's, she would not be his fatal flaw.

But as the light caught her hair and her smile radiated warmth, Nathanael's heart thudded in his chest, and he knew, this girl would be the death of him-

" _It's the prophecy, after all._ "

He froze in his place, his cleaning façade dropping as the prophecy was mentioned. Who was speaking and how did they know about it?

"No, Rose, it's not some silly fairytale _prophecy_. She's the Kings fiancé, she'll be queen in less than a week. We won't even need a rebellion, the King just has to **cark** it and she can hand the leadership over to us. _Easy_." Another voice replied, Nathanael relaxed, checking his surroundings before listening in again.

"What? B-but the rightful heir is Prince Adrien! Can't he lead?" Marinette's soft voice added.

"The King still has to die, and it won't end the rebellion, it will just postpone it until Adrien becomes like his father." The deeper voice added.

Nathanael held back a snort, if only they knew that Adrien taking control would end the rebellion, it would fulfil the prophecy and all would be well in this world.

 _If only they knew_.

* * *

 

Juleka sat again, looking back to Marinette. "Or you could runaway like you planned too and throw the whole country into chaos."

Marinette stiffened, _of course she knew_.

"This is your only option. If you take control, you won't be able to handle it. If you leave Gabriel in control you will die either by his hand or by the hands of the rebellion. Be on the right side when the fight happens and the blood won't _have_ to be on your hands, then you can leave, live happily." Juleka added, her voice softer now.

Nathalie was visibly uncomfortable, she had worked for Gabriel Agreste for years, and although he was horrible, the thought of him dead was still jarring. Juleka did not seem to care as she pressed on  

"For your parents, Marinette. It was Gabriel's fault that they died. Avenge them, become a hero!"

Marinette swore her heart stopped.

Nathalie had never seen someone pale so much without fainting.

"H-he had them killed? The fire? It was-" Marinette's voice trembled, her whole body trembled, her hand were frozen in a clutching motion, above her heart. Her eyes were wide with fright and Nathalie's heart ached for the girl.

With a shaky hand of her own, Nathalie reached out to touch the girl, console her. Marinette had always been lead to believe that it was an accident.

Nathalie cursed internally, knowing she couldn't have trusted that stupid boy, he was meant to have told her by now, _how could he not have told her_?

Marinette heard voices, but she couldn't hear what they were saying, everything was fuzzy and blurry and she did the best thing she could think of in that situation.

 _She ran_.

She ran straight into a chest and two arms and together they fell through the walls of the palace and into tunnels and paths she had never known existed.

A voice was calling her, or calling something. She heard the noise, and with every call it was becoming clearer and until she broke the surface of the water in an ocean she had been drowning in in her mind.

" **MARINETTE THEY'RE ALIVE**!" The voice yelled and she looked up, her heart too fragile to withstand any more pain.

His eyes were lighter than hers, impossibly blue, and he looked at her with such concern and sincerity that she knew he couldn't be lying and her heart stilled.

"Nathanael? My parents are really alive?" She wasn't sure if she had even spoken out loud until he replied, his eyes locked onto hers.

Then she was falling and his lips were on hers and they were just not right and she pulled away, scrambling against the now closed wall.

"I'm sorry- I don't know what came over me, I-"

Her voice was colder than before when she interrupted his apology.

**_"Nathanael, please take me to them."_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waiter how did this Ninalya, Tikagg and Nathanette get in my soup?  
> Idk it wasn't on the menu tho whoops complain to the chef
> 
> ((DID YOU CATCH ALL THE MUSICAL REFERENCES IN THIS CHAP HAHA IM TRASH))
> 
> Little note: the whole thing about different universes is gonna tie in because as you know I'm gonna write a Mulan AU and hopefully more ((GREASE IS THE WORD)) and they're all connected in the sense that Tikki and Plagg are the same Tikki and Plagg from here and its yeah okay you guys get it.
> 
> As always:  
> @Metalbendrs on Tumblr  
> @SabrinaThoughts on Twitter


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting down to business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry please just take it and forgive me

**_"Nathanael, please take me to them."_ **

* * *

 

"What do you mean, Tikki?" Alya was hesitant, hugging her knees to her chest where she sat, concern seeped from her words as Tikki's fair skin went whiter than Alya thought possible, and after a moment her cheeks flushed a deep Crimson.

Tikki rose to her feet, hurriedly pacing back and forth, the atmosphere in the room had quickly shifted from relief to a sense of panic.

Plagg eyed Tikki suspiciously, his arms folded flat against his broad chest.   
"What **do** you mean, Tikki?" He drawled, brows burrowed tightly in worry.

Adrien watched in silence as Tikki's feet lifted from the floor as she floated towards the bookshelves that adorned one of the walls, her feet moving as if she was hurriedly climbing stairs, once more, had Adrien not stood where she flew only moments ago, he would assume the stairs were simply naked to the human eye.

Tikki reached behind a particularly heavy book, dust clouding the room as she pushed it away, and when it cleared Tikki stood on the ground once again, a small wooden box in hand.

"Open it-" she extended her arms towards Plagg, who only arched a brow in response. Tikki insisted, pushing her arms out towards him further.

With a sigh Plagg retrieved the box from her hands, holding it firmly in his own. From across the room, the three teens watched on with interest, Alya crouching above Nino for a better view, she looked every part a tigress ready to pounce, Adrien had to stifle a laugh, he supposed that's what Alya was in a past life, maybe they had all been kings and queens of a long forgotten jungle.

Plagg pried the box open with minimal effort, and when his eyes landed open the contents of the box, _or lack thereof_ , his other brow arched to match its partner.

"Her miraculous is gone, Tikki, s-she can't do anything without-" Plagg's voice was cut off by Tikki nodding her head, a sadness in her eyes that Alya believed to be a sense of failure.

Slowly standing, Alya joined Tikki and Plagg where they stood, throwing a casual arm around the woman, who leaned into Alya's embrace. Adrien and Nino joined them, silently embracing one another, and hopelessness fell into ever nook and cranny in the room, heavy upon their shoulders.

"Wait a second... ** _what_** \- what was in this box?" Nino looked over Alya's shoulder, head cocked and eyes squinted in thought.

TiKiki turned to Plagg, sharing a brief moment of eye contact before turning back to the boy.

"Earrings, red and black. Full of powerful magic. They can only be controlled by those in the prophecy-" Tikki had began to ramble, her voice sad and low, the spark of hope extinguished, Nino interrupted, his voice panicked as he grabbed the box from Plaggs hands.

"I've seen them! I've seen these!" He called from across the room, triumphantly climbing onto the couch to hold the box up to one of the floating candles. "Perfect fit!"

"Where kid? Where in the _hell_ did _you_ see them?!" Plagg cried, scrambling to climb next to him, peering into the empty box as if it held the nectar of life.

"Alya remember a few months ago when there were rumours that one of the servants were to be executed for attempting to steal from Gabriel's room?" Nino thrust the box into Plaggs hands and leapt from the couch to Alya's side.

Alya leaned her head back, nodding swiftly. "Its hard to forget, kid disappeared completely, they searched every part of the kingdom, even neighbouring kingdoms, never found a trace of him."

Nino smiled, pulling Alya to the floor with him, two pillows flying beneath their rears before they could touch the stone, Tikki and Plagg standing at opposite ends of the room, pointer fingers extended and eyebrows knitted.

Alya only smirked playfully at the young man in front of her.

"Do you remember what he stole? Why it was so important to Gabe?" Nino leant forward, Alya copying his movements as their foreheads brushed lightly.

"Jewellery wasn't it? A pair of... _Earrings_. **EARRINGS**! NINO YOU'RE A GENIUS!" Alya smiled, pressing her forehead against his harder, throwing her arms around his shoulders as they tumbled to the floor in hysterical laughter.

Tikki smiled and the room seemed to brighten around them as Plagg rushed back to the cauldron, haphazardly mixing and throwing ingredients in.

Adrien cheered from his place aside Tikki, collecting the small woman into a tight hug with an even brighter smile before they began rushing around the room, gathering supplies and spells they may need along the way.

Alya pressed her palms against the stone, lifting herself above Nino with a gracious smile. Below her the boy smiled proudly, a look Alya wished she would see every day for the rest of her life. Not one to see a chance and ignore it, Alya promptly lowered herself down and pressed her lips to his.

After the initial shock of Alya's boldness wore away, Nino's arms wrapped around her shoulders as he deepened the kiss, eyes closing softly as Alya's lips moved perfectly against his. The room around them melted away and it felt as if they were the only people in the entire world.

"Whenever you two are ready, we kinda have to go save the world." Plagg called from his place at the cauldron, pouring some sort of concoction into a vile.

Alya lifted herself quickly, her lipstick smudged across her ( _and his_ ) lips wildly, almost as wild as the matching grins they wore.

"Let's do it"

* * *

 

Gabriel's eyes stayed glued to the papers strewn messily across his desk, quill still perfectly poised, the picture of perfect disorder as if he had been carved from stone by skilled hands.

The sound of faintly clicking heels intrigued him beyond belief, but his eyes stayed glued to the papers.

The noise approached, steady and light; graceful. A woman who knew how to hold herself, a woman worth respect, if that so existed.

"Your highness, a visitor." Called one of the guards posed at his door, Gabriel nodded.

His eyes never left the papers, his quill never left his hand.

"My King, a word?" The woman's voice was sweeter than he had anticipated, but he grunted a response, allowing her to step forward in the room, the sound of her feet carried across the entranceway.

Gabriel lifted his head, eyes peering from beneath his brow.

"My King, I have a proposition for you, if you will grace me with the honour of your time." She spoke, arms folded softly across her stomach, her hair glimmering in the fair light that streamed through the window.

"I am willing to grant this to you" the King nodded, dismissing the guards at the end of the room with a wave of his hand.

* * *

 

Chloe Bourgeois was many things, rich, beautiful, a respected noblewoman, but she was truly _wicked_.

Rumours spread quickly among the poor townsfolk, and there were many rumours about Chloe Bourgeois. Although noble born, she was not noble at heart and the whispers crept into her mind at every stalling moment.

" _Her father was a drunkard, the girls mother lied too amass wealth, the poor child's a bastard_." Nothing but blasphemy.

" _A pompous child, fired 4 nannies for telling her to bathe, and another 6 simply because they looked too poor to work for her._ " Untrue in every sense, it was only 3 she had fired.

" _She's **wicked** , as is her entire family, they should be taken from our town and kicked to the nearest prison._"

 _Wicked_. How many times had Chloe Bourgeois heard herself described as _wicked_?  
Too many to count. It was one of the first words she remembered hearing, _wicked child_ , spoiled harlot, _wicked child_ , brat, **_wicked child_**.

It did not take long for Chloe Bourgeois to begin believing that she truly was wicked, as anyone in her position would.

However, Chloe Bourgeois had 3 gifts bestowed upon her.   
The first was _beauty_ , she had always been an ethereal beauty, and until her mother told her that young ladies do not leave the house looking like poor women, she did not cover it.   
The second was _deception_ , she had always been a good liar, hence why her nannies always left in shame, hence why Sabrina was forced to scrub the floors with Marinette when it had been Chloe that broke her mothers vase.   
The third was the gift to _prove people wrong_. A gift she had hidden and stowed away. So when the women in the streets called out to the wicked Bourgeois girl, she pushed away her want to prove them wrong.

_**If they wanted a wicked girl, she would show them an evil, wicked, horrible girl.** _

But Chloe had had enough of pushing it away, she wanted to prove them wrong, prove everybody wrong, she wanted to be the hero, not the villain, and she wanted to do good.  
 _She wanted to **be** good_.

Chloe Bourgeois was many things, but she was not wicked, and it was her time to show the world that they were wrong about her.

"My King, I have a proposition for you, if you will grace me with the honour of your time."

* * *

 

The cells were cold and damp, and the sound of dripping water was constant and deafening in its repetitiveness.

Madame Bourgeois stood, dirty, disgraced, the finery of her gowns could no longer save her from the reality of her situation.   
She stood a broken woman, her voice hoarse from screaming and her eyes low from shame.

A single lantern illuminated the space between her cell and the cell across from her, to which the door lay starkly open.

She had been fading in and out of consciousness when that cell was opened and the occupant escorted out, she did not know if they were freed or taken to the guillotine. She wonders if she even wanted to know.

There were soft voices that grew louder, and the lantern was quickly blocked with the shadow of a guard.

Whoever they were, they were back, and the cell was shut loudly. Madame Bourgeois flinched at the scraping of metal on concrete, eyes screwing shut.

She opened them slowly, the outline of a small figure holding onto the bars, Madame could not see, and she approached her so cell wall with caution, wrapping her arms around the metal, pressing her face against the coolness.

The woman was small, her robes were clean and new, and she smelled like soap, a smell that Madame Bourgeois relished.

"Tell me-" she spoke out, her voice rough and frenzied almost, as she pressed closer against the metal, the small woman looking to her hurriedly and afraid, "What are you in for?"

The woman opened her mouth to speak, before clearing her throat and trying again, wrapping a hand slowly around the metal bar.

" _Falling in love._ " She sighed sadly, her eyes downcast and glazed almost dreamily.

Madame Bourgeois snorted, drawing the woman's attention back.

_**"Gross. I slapped a wench, I win, you lose."** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why this took 500 25000 600 minutes: wrote nearly 4000 words. Lost it all. Wrote nearly 1000 words. Lost it again.   
> Had exams, and assessments, forgot about this, felt guilty, came back and wrote this all in under 25 minutes so sorry if it's shitty. 
> 
> I'm so sorry I pulled another Adriens Mom but I STG there will be at least 2 chapters in the next two weeks and then this will be all over wow omg. 
> 
> I love you all thank you for sticking by me. 
> 
> Please leave a comment and kudos! It really helps me learn as a writer!
> 
> Tumblr: @Metalbendrs  
> Twitter: @SabrinaThoughts


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are beginning to happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry please enjoy

**_"Gross. I slapped a wench, I win, you lose."_ **

* * *

 

The frail woman stared at Madame Bourgeois incredulously, eyes wide and jaw slack. And then she spoke, her voice collected and steady and full of something Madame had never heard, but supposed was a motherly tone.

"I _hardly_ think it be a competition, we both reside in the same dungeons now, whatever we may have done that led us here, we are still prisoners. We played the same game, and we have both lost."

Madame felt herself stiffen, mouth agape as she attempted to collect her thoughts and redeem herself, yet she was left in silence, inept at finding a proper retort, perhaps, she thought for a fleeting moment, it's because the woman was correct in her assumptions.   
She raised her eyes once more, warmth and fire meeting a calm blue ocean, and she swallowed hard the lump in her throat as familiarity washed over her for the quickest of moments, pushing herself away from the metal bars and clutching at her mouth and throat as she turned away from the woman, who's eyes alone brought her, the immovable Madame Bourgeois, to her knees.

_And she thought she could stoop no lower._

"I did not mean to upset you, nor frighten you, I am sorry. My name is-" the woman had begun to speak, but Madame could not bear a second of it, now the woman's voice rang in her ears so loudly, she had heard that very same voice, she had seen those eyes, she knew who the woman was, and suddenly her stomach felt uneasy, as though it were being twisted in some cruel form of reciprocity.

"I know exactly who you are, and I believe it is _I_ who owes _you_ an apology-" Madame felt the words choke her as they flowed from her lips, turning slowly where she was bent to face the small woman, now rising slowly as she stepped forward into the light once more.

Softly, as though it were the most delicate piece of finery in the world, she grasped the metal bars of her cell and pressed her forehead against them, "for I have done unto you a great injustice, one which I see to mend."

* * *

 

The tunnels were winding and dark and damp, and Marinette struggled to breathe through the pungent air, the smell of death and sadness and decay. Her heart broke a thousand times as her mind raced, how many years had she spent believing her parents were gone, how many tears had she cried for their lives lost so soon, how long had they spent torn apart? Marinette felt her eyes begin to water, and she forced herself to blink away the stinging tears, she would cry no more for her parents, they were not dead, they were alive and so close she could feel them.

"I'm sorry about the- you know- it's just-" Nathanaels words echoed pitifully off the stone walls, he felt all of two feet tall as shame kept his cheeks burning. Marinette did not flinch, she didn't even turn to him.  
"I just-" he sighed, the torch he held flickering as though it could sense his fluttering heart, "I wanted to know how it felt, to love someone else with all of your being-"

Marinette faltered, her eyes shifting downwards as she quickened her step again. She still would not look at him, but now she spoke, with a strength that only made Nathanael fall deeper. "That is **not** love Nathanael, love is kind and pure, and it's _reciprocated_." She stopped now, turning to face him with eyes full of sadness and sorrow. "I'm sorry that I can not love you-" she placed a single palm on his face, so tender and slight that it made Nathanael wonder if she was touching him at all, "you would be a great man to love. The woman who will love you is incredibly lucky."

Her words were sweet and kind, but they pierced Nath like a thousand tiny knives, and his skin prickled as though he could really feel them.   
Marinette turned and continued to walk, but he hesitated.

If only she _knew_ , he thought, that there would be no great love of his life. Perhaps if she knew, she could fool herself for a moment into believing that her sympathy was truly love, and he could know it's touch for the first time.

He walked faster, they were close now and he would not keep her from this moment any longer.

* * *

 

Nathalie paced, as she tended to do as of late, the room suddenly seemed so large.   
"Can't we go after her? There has to be something we can _do_ , something we can _say_ -" the words spilled from her mouth with no filter, bouncing from the walls.

Juleka shrugged, her feet propped, she was nonchalant and calm and Nathalie envied that quality more than she could put into words. "I thought she knew." Was all the girl said, before the room was filled with silence again.

Rose barely dared to breathe, the tension in the room so high, she felt as though even a breath too loud would break them into chaos. "We should continue as planned." She spoke softly, back stiff and straight as she sat on the small couch, feet planted firmly on the ground.

Juleka scoffed, removing her feet from where the sat and placing them on the ground with a dull thud. " **What** plan Rose? She _was_ the plan." She spoke calmly, but Rose could feel the girls anxiousness brewing beneath the surface.

Nathalie bit her lip, her pace faltered and she turned to face Juleka, her hands wringing behind her back. "Then we- we make a new plan."

Juleka scoffed again, this time louder, rising from where she sat, her mouth opened, her eyebrow raised, her taunt was on the tip of her tongue and cocked like a loaded gun when Roses voice filled the room, and both women's heads snapped to look at the blonde.

"That could totally work, and I think I have an idea."

* * *

 

Soft laughter carried through the Kings large quarters, it was airy and light and something the room hadn't heard for a very long time.

On the large desk sat a rather empty bottle of wine, and two intricate glasses, behind one sat Gabriel, his lips pursed but eyes soft as the soft haze of the wine he had drank settled over him, behind the other sat Chloe, her lips now painted a deep, luxurious red, and her eyes drooped in faux drunkenness.

"So, my King-" she cooed, rising slowly as she leaned over the desk towards Gabriel, bringing her half empty glass to her lips and obscuring his from sight, "I think I have... _assets_... that could help keep us both satisfied." She drawled, taking the rim of the glass between her plump lips and taking a slow, indulgent sip of the deep red wine.

Gabriel's eyes were transfixed on her lips, and despite him being a very intelligent man who prided himself on knowing very intelligent people, he had yet to meet a woman the likes of Chloe Bourgeois. So as his eyes tracked the movement of her mouth, Chloe slipped a graceful hand behind her, and with all the skilfulness of a truly wicked woman, she slipped a small pill into his glass, stirring with a long nail.

_Chloe Bourgeois knew how to get what she wanted._

"So, your majesty, a toast-" she raised her glass, leaning back and grasping his in her soft hands, tilting it towards him invitingly. "-to our newfound business _relationship_." She smiled softly, placing the glass in his hand.

Gabriel smiled, raising the glass to his lips. Chloe watched with intent, raising her glass to her own lips.

Gabriel halted, his smile turning sinister. "You think me **that** dumb, girl?" He snarled, prying her glass from her fingers and thrusting his own into her hands. With a few short steps, he made his way around the table, grasping Chloe roughly by the arm and pulling her towards him, albeit slightly shakily.

" ** _Drink_**." His voice was inhuman, dark and dangerous and-

Chloe smiled warmly, raising his glass to her lips and taking a large gulp of the wine, swallowing with an pleased sound as she raised her eyes to his.

Gabriel only chuckled, taking a sip of the wine from her glass. "Tell me, what _does_ the pill do?" He smirked, stepping back slightly from the girl before swaggering back towards his seat.

Chloe sat slowly, holding her glass with two hands delicately.

"Makes me immune to the poison that was in the wine." She shrugged, taking another slow sip.

Gabriel turned, eyes narrowed as he angrily threw the glass to the floor where it shattered. He began to take a step towards her, his hand raised threateningly, but suddenly the world began to spin before his eyes, and the last thing he saw before the darkness overwhelmed his vision, was the eyes of one Chloe Bourgeois, her red lips turned into a devious smirk, and her hand wrapped around the glass of wine.

Gabriel clattered the floor in a heap, and Chloe looked at him from her seat, taking another sip of her wine before standing, taking long strides towards the door, before pulling it open the slightest, grace and poise exuding from every pore as she looked to the guards. "The King requests you leave us, and that my sister be sent in with the finest bottle of the palaces champagne. _That is all_."

* * *

 

Nino, Alya, Adrien, Tikki and Plagg moved silently, huddled closely together in the secret tunnels that few knew of. The tunnels had gotten progressively smaller, and now the group stood hunched, pinching their noses to cover the foul smell that emitted from the tunnels walls and floors.

With a frustrated grunt Nino turned to Plagg. "This is **ridiculous** , you guys are magic, why can't you just _teleport_ us to where the earrings are?"

"Because _Nino_ , I'm a magic being, not a miracle worker." Plagg retaliated dryly, waving a hand to dismiss him, as though Nino was a pesky fly and could be swatted away.

That did not bode well with Nino, and the two dissolved into petty bickering, only broken by Adrien who hushed them, and for a moment it seemed as though they had stopped. 

" _I just think it's funny how_ -" Nino chimed, and the two began again, there was no malice in their argument, they were simply bickering for the sake of bickering.

Alya raised a brow, tilting her head towards Tikki, who looked at her knowingly, and the pair rolled their eyes simultaneously. "Can we _please_ focus on finding these earrings and getting out of these tunnels?" Alya pleaded, annoyance dripped from every syllable.

Tikki and Adrien nodded eagerly in agreement, and Nino looked at them with embarrassment. Plagg however, always the one to gloat, refused to admit that he was being childish, and instead focused his energy on counting his steps aloud, much to the annoyance of _literally everyone else_.

At least, Tikki thought, he wasn't whistling.

Plagg had a tendency to whistle when bored, and he had whistled the same tune for a thousand lifetimes, and it drove Tikki to the edge of insanity.

Next to her, Plagg began to purse his lips, and with one swift movement, she had the much taller man in the most awkward headlock.

"Whistle that song Plagg-" she said, leaning in closer to the mans ear "- _I **dare** you_ " she whispered hoarsely.

Nino and Alya had stopped to watch the scene in baffled amusement, the momentary relief from the seriousness of the situation was a welcome distraction, and they relished the moment, all 2 seconds of it.

"There's a door-" Adrien called from just ahead, and all 4 who had been momentarily frozen rushed to meet him as he slowly creaked the door open the slightest inch.

"This is it, now we just have to get past Gabey boy and get those earrings" Plagg whispered with a small smirk, and Nino bit back the urge to laugh from beside him.

"I don't think it's going to be very hard to get past my father-" Adrien spoke, baffled as he pushed the hidden door open.

"Are you _**crazy**_ you're gonna get us killed!" Plagg scrabbled to pull Adrien back and hold the door, but it was too late and the 5 of them tumbled into Gabriel's office, all on high alert, aside from Adrien, who stood, head cocked as he looked to the centre of the room.

Where his father lay crumpled in a heap, snoring loudly.

_**"Find those damn earrings"** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well  
> Remember when I said I'd update twice??? In a couple weeks???  
> That was a couple months ago.   
> Life happens, things change, I went to Germany which was really cool, and I'm sorry.   
> But enjoy this bomb ass chapter which I really enjoyed writing hell fuckin yeah.   
> As always, you can reach me on Twitter and Tumblr, Twitter is slightly inactive because of the damn hiatus, but tumblr is also slightly inactive but less so.   
> Tumblr: @metalbendrs  
> Twitter: @SabrinaThoughts


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> well, this is confusing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #filler chapter

_**"Find those damn earrings"** _

* * *

 

It took a meagre few minutes before every inch of the furniture in Gabriel's spacious quarters was overturned and thoroughly rummaged through.   
Papers that were once neatly strewn across the desk now lay plastered to the floor, the Kings signatures replaced with the tread of Plaggs heavy boots.   
A portrait of the king that had hung on the left wall teetered dangerously on one measly holding, and the beautiful paint that adorned the canvas was long gone, all that remained were shreds.

Alya was elbow deep in the many drawers and wooden cabinets that lined the room and held the Kings finery, important documents and not-so cherished memories. Her rummaging was a flurry of papers thrown into the air after being hastily scanned for clues, and jewels being slid into pockets.

Nino had taken it upon himself to search every nook and cranny of Gabriel's great desk, which took up a rather large portion of the centre of the room and housed many compartments, both locked and unlocked, although that was not a problem for Nino, who took great satisfaction in picking the locks of a Kings secret files.

Plagg supposed he was helping, as much as one floating to check the ornate ceilings and chandeliers _could_ help in this time.

Tikki had preoccupied herself with keeping King Gabriel restrained and in his peaceful state of slumber, tying him to one of the more comfortable chairs, despite objections from Alya and Plagg, with linen and bedsheets.

The search was frantic and fevered and _absolutely bloody useless_ , as Plagg had so gracefully put it, and Adrien began to feel a great uneasiness in his stomach as the number of places to search grew smaller and the likeliness of finding the earrings shrunk. 

He paced the room, the cool air on his skin relaxing him in the slightest. He had long disposed of the tailored jacket he usually wore in favour of his much lighter undershirt, which billowed open slightly as he now made long strides across the room towards his fathers desk.

Nino looked up at him through dark lashes, and with a lopsided smirk, offered Adrien the encouragement he had needed to press forward, closing the distance towards his fathers desk, and bracing himself on the sturdy wood.

Adrien eyes scanned quickly over the papers, hoping that any second his mind would catch a single word or phrase that would give them some inkling of hope or point them in the right direction.

_He found nothing._

With a frustrated growl he swept the papers roughly from the desk, sending them flying across the floor and fluttering around his feet. A single lock of hair fell over his eyes, and he reached a hand up to comb through the golden tresses and push them out of his eyes.

Frustrated beyond compare, he began to step away from the desk, hoping it would lessen his sense of dread. But as he took a step to his right, a sickening _**crunch**_ followed. He let his eyes trail toward the sound, lifting his boot slowly to reveal shards of broken glass. Curious, his brows lifted and then furrowed as he turned his head back to the large desk on which, now shrouded in paper, sat a single beautiful wine glass, adorned with a cherry red stain around the rim.

Perplexed he reached for the glass, holding it up to his eyes as he inspected the print, the colour seemed familiar, it pressed in his mind, that he had seen this colour lipstick the night before, he remembered it being one of the few likeable things about one wicked-

The doors to the room opened quickly, and all occupants froze suddenly, Plagg falling to the ground with a distant _thud_.

"Chloe?"

* * *

 

The tunnels only grew more winding, and Nathanael had long stopped apologising, instead favouring the uncomfortable silence that fell between Marinette and himself.

There were very few moments in which he wanted to share his thoughts with her, but instead shut his mouth tighter, grit his teeth and looked solemnly forward, refusing himself the indulgence of glancing in her direction.

Next to him Marinette let her mind still, focused all of her energy onto what she would say when she saw her parents again for the first time in so long.

Occasionally she allowed her thoughts to drift and her mind to ponder.   
Would they recognise her? _Surely_ they would.  
Would she recognise _them_?

_She knew she would._

Despite her preoccupation Marinette noticed the tunnels growing brighter, and the foul odor beginning to lessen in the slightest. Her stomach began to fill with thousands of tiny butterflies, her eyes watering subconsciously.   
For once in her life, she felt completely hopeful and content, her pace quickening to match her rapid heartbeat, excitement growing with each passing second.

A sharp left turn led them to a large wooden door, the bottom was splintered and cold air nipped at Marinettes ankles from beneath it, it was covered in large black pieces of metal. Marinette felt her heart drop when she realised where this door lead.   
A dungeon.

Quickly lifting a finger to wipe away a singular tear that had slipped down her cheek, Marinette turned her head away from the door, leating her hair fall around her face like a shield as she took a moment to collect herself.

How many years had Gabriel kept her family locked down here? Cold and scared and starving.

In that moment, Marinette swore to herself that she would make sure the King felt every inch of suffering he had bestowed upon her parents, she vowed that she would give her life before she allowed this man **any** inkling of sympathy.

Gabriel would beg at her feet for mercy before she let him get away with his atrocities.

Nathanael placed a single hand on the cool metal of the door, drawing a deep breath as he removed his hand from the door and reached into the satchel he had been carrying. Slowly he removed a long, brown cloak, and outstretched it towards Marinette, offering it to her.

"Put it on, and keep your head _down_ " his voice was low and darker than before, full of warning and concern.

Marinette nodded once, removing the cloak from his hands and with her own shaking hands, tied it around her shoulders, gently placing the hood over her head until only the bottom half of her face was visible in the dim light, shadows concealing her eyes.

After a moment of hesitation, Nathanael lifted the large metal knocker and knocked on the door exactly four times, before pushing Marinette behind him and taking a few cautionary steps backwards.

The sound echoed in the damp tunnel for a few moments, and then silence rung in Marinettes ears very loudly, the only sound to be heard for what seemed like eternities, but in fact was only moments, was her shallow breathing.

The door croaked open, groaning loudly on its hinges, crying out for some oil, and Marinette scrunched her face at the grating sound.

The first thing she noticed was that the foul smell was much more prominent now, and most likely emanated from the dungeon within, the second thing she noticed was the hulking royal guard, unlike any she had ever seen.

This guard was not dressed in fine robes, and he did not carry a sword. Instead he was covered from head to toe in armour, worn with dents and scratches and Marinette _swore_ there were specks of dried and fresh blood. At his hip he carried a mace, the wooden handle was as worn as his suit, indicating that it was used often, and sheen of fresh blood on the metallic spikes indicated it was used recently.

The sight and smell, along with the implications they held, made Marinette gag. She held the sound in her throat, forcing her face to steel and remain silent, but beneath her cloak, her hands shook violently.

Nathanael spoke lowly, and in some form of passcode, and the guard nodded, stepping aside to allow Nathanael entry. Shakily, Marinette followed closely behind him, but as she reached the threshold of the door, the guard extended his arm to block her passage.

" ** _Halt_**." His voice was deep and resonated in her bones, it was a teeth chattering and mind numbing voice.

The guard looked to Nathanael, his voice stern and devoid of emotion.

" ** _Who is she?_** " He asked accusingly, and from so far beneath him, Marinette shuddered, terrified.

"A local and lowly medicine woman, for the prisoners." Nathanael spoke, calm and quick, not faltering once. He had learned long ago that one fault or one stumble could mean death.

The guard looked from Nathanael to Marinette, peering down at her. Marinette kept her eyes downcast and her face steeled, trying to maintain her composure as best as she knew how.

" ** _Remove the cloak._** " The guard ordered, standing straight, and Marinette slowly lifted her hands from beneath the cloak and reached to untie the cloaks holding.

"My good man, she is a _peasant_ of the _lowest_ form, I think it a _disrespect_ to show _such_ a _lowly_ beggars face to a noble guard, _especially_ one the rankings of **_yours_**." Nathanael butted in, lifting a hand to Marinette that told her to stop what she was doing.

The guard turned to Nathanael, and for a moment even Marinette believed his explanation. But the guard was not to be fooled.

" ** _I thank you for your respect, but I insist that she remove her cloak_**." The guard pressed, his voice firm and booming, a man who knew his authority.

Marinettes hands resumed where they had frozen, and she braced herself as she reached her hands upwards to remove her cloak.

"She has leprosy!" Nathanael called, the slightest hint of desperation lingering in his voice. Marinette froze once again, this time suppressing a laugh that bubbled int he back of her throat.

" **Yes**! It is infecting commoners at an alarming rate, she is here to test medicines on the prisoners at the Kings very request, so that his people may not suffer the _perils_ of this _dirty_ , _filthy_ disease any longer!" Nathanael was deep in the lie, dramatically reciting to the guard, who had taken a small half step away from Marinette.

After a moment, the guard finally spoke.

" ** _Gross_** -" he cleared his throat " ** _you may proceed_** \- _please don't touch me_."

* * *

 

Chloe froze, her smile dropping and replaced with a grimace of confusion, Sabrina stood to her side, hands gripped tightly around a champagne bottle, an equally confused expression on her face.

Chloe burst into action, slamming the door behind her and locking it, rushing forward, Sabrina in tow, glancing around the room in pure and utter confusion.

Finally she reached where Adrien stood, both staring at each other, and everyone was just, well, _confused_. Suddenly, they spoke, breaking the silent tension that had filled the room.

 _"What is going on in here?"_  
 _"What did you do to my father?"_  
 _"Who are all these people?"_  
"How did you get in here?"  
"Was that guy floating?!"  
"Why have you got a bottle of champagne?"

Their questions overlapped, and both blondes sighed, drawing equally deep breaths before they spoke in unison.

_**"It's a long story"** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yoooo I actually am enjoying writing so that means I should be able to update at minimum once a week, sometimes more!
> 
> ALSO CAMPY FUNNY NATHANAEL HECK YES
> 
> Yeah this is a filler chapter, mainly intended to get my characters where I need them for the events that are forthcoming. Yes, I probably could have combined my last chapter and this one and it would have been better, but hey I do what I want and this is how I'm doing it. 
> 
> Follow me on social media, feel free to send me a message, I really love comments and feedback and everything that comes with writing a good fic!  
> Tumblr: @Metalbendrs  
> Twitter: @SabrinaThoughts


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